The Intendant
by Rebelmaiden
Summary: Concerned with their on-going relations with both Cardassia and Bajor, the Federation sends an envoy to Terok Nor with the task to attempt keeping both within the boundaries of tolerance. Intendant Isabel Kellis encounters far more than just politics...
1. Prologue

The Intendant

**The Intendant**

Prologue

„Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Commander."

Chief of Security Odo spoke flatly, unsure of what exactly to feel for the new Commander. He had been preparing himself for this encounter ever since Gul Dukat had left his office after receiving his last report. Before that, he had been much too busy with all the preparations of the Cardassian troops that were abandoning the station. Crime came by easily in such situations, and he had been determined not to let anything bypass him. His strong sense of justice was the only inheritance his species had left him…whoever they were, he was certain they were very just people.

Odo looked humanoid at the moment. As humanoid as he could've, to be precise, because his shape-shifting abilities had never been able to master a proper face. He could cease to be humanoid any second, though, transforming into a bird, a dog, a rat, a bucket, anything surrounding him. This was a gift, any objective eye would have grasped that right away. However, sometimes, Odo bore it like a curse. Each and every time he used it, each and every time he changed shape, images of his past would come to him, images of himself being used as a circus attraction in a laboratory, taking 'change requests'.

One thing that mostly not disturbed, but annoyed him, was the fact he was going to have to, doubtless after a long, surprised, shocked look from Commander Sisko, explain the story of his past, his heritage, how he had been found floating in the Denorios Belt, in his liquid state, and how he'd lived in a laboratory until choosing to move to Terok Nor…this station back then. He had not had any function until Gul Dukat had chosen to employ him as his Chief of Security.

Then Sisko would most certainly ask how could he have collaborated, working for Cardassians. Odo would shoot back readily that he was merely ensuring that Bajorans got at least some justice. The last line was true, on the one hand. They had gotten justice, but Cardassian justice. Sometimes, sometimes only, Odo would have managed to persuade the Prefect into softening the charges, or at least giving Odo a chance to investigate further. However, each and every solved case resulted with the death of at least one Bajoran.

It was possible that Commander Sisko knew of him, however. He sincerely hoped for that.

Seven years ago, just as he had come to Terok Nor, the Federation had decided to enter negotiations with Cardassia concerning Bajor. Naturally, the Cardassians had not been willing to retreat, so they had reached a compromise. Starfleet sent an official to the station, with the rank of Intendant, whose fucntion was to make sure the Bajorans were treated justly. The Intendant was second in command on the station, but only had any power at all on the station. The Cardassians would never have agreed to giving anything more to a human. They had been reluctant as it had been.

Isabel Kellis had been an…interesting Intendant, to say the least.

Odo had never had enthusiastic leanings towards that idea. He was certain that the Bajorans would be treated just the same way as before, that in spite of the Intendant's efforts, the Cardassians were not going to change a thing. In his eyes, he had helped much more than this Intendant was going to be able to.

However, there were still things that could surprise him.

Nothing had changed, alright. But Isabel Kellis had not _attempted to change it either. _

She had appeared more interested in mantaining good relations with Cardassia than in helping the Bajorans. She was quite responsible for his attittude towards the Federation…he considered it highly hippocrytical. When their envoy had taken more pleasure in dining with Cardassians than easing the sufferings of the Bajoran workers--

But just as he had, as unwilling as he was to admit it, grown to somewhat like Gul Dukat during his years here, he'd also developed a slight affection for the Intendant. So he found now that he really could not blame her for he attitude. Especially when he _knew WHY._

The two were, when you gave it a better look, quite simillar. Both had that touch of arrogance, superiority…they gave commands with ease…Only the Intendant was much more impulsive. Or at least had been, by his memory.

There was another simillarity-both of them had entrusted Odo with a secret.

And as he stared into the eyes of Commander Sisko, the back of the Constable's mind unconsciously sank into the recallings of Isabel Kellis…and her painful enigma.


	2. First Impressions

Chapter One

**Chapter One**

„Welcome to Terok Nor, Intendant."

Isabel Kellis stepped out of the airlock, her emerald green eyes examining the new surroundings. An analysis came right away. This was going to be her home for a very long time. She was better off deducing how it was right away.

Too dark, alright. But she had expected that, just as the heat, since the Cardassians preferred it that way. Their station; she was not going to interfere with how they kept the eviromental controls. At least not yet. Maybe later, when she gained more favor with the station commander, she would be able to get at least her quarters set to human parameters.

Gaining favor was the last thing she was supposed to be thinking about right now. She was, after all, the Intendant sent by the Federation, one who was supposed to hold back the Cardassians, have them take it easy on the Bajorans. She was supposed to _oppose t_he commander of the station.

And she knew all that. But Isabel had not been trained for years just to throw everything away during her first hour here, by displaying enmity towards the Prefect of Bajor. That would have been a very stupid move, considering the fact that there was no way she would ever be able to do anything for the Bajoran workers if there began a conflict between her and him. In open combat, she saw plainly that she had no chance of victory whatsoever. The Cardassian was going to have it his way. And accuse the Federation of interfering more than they should have…and this temporary alliance would go to waste then.

But if she started off well; if she managed to charm the Prefect, then he was undoubtedly going to allow her a…priviledge or two…like, perhaps, executing a smaller number of Bajorans? That would be a start. The point was, Gul Dukat certainly seemed like the sort of man who was to be manipulated, not fought.

Isabel had read only the basic data Starfleet Intelligence had on him.She did not want to have the whole picture of a man she had not even had the chance to judge in person in her mind. She was among those who preferred to build their own views of everything instead of merely reading up on others' work. A trait her superiors scorned, but also appreciated. They couldn't quite put their finger on it. Maybe they'd even sent her here because of that very fact; because all the others were full of prejudices concerning Cardassians. Oh, yes, her superiors were very interested in good relations with Cardassia, just as with Bajor. Personally, Isabel was certain they were more interested in being in the Cardassians' good books. That was okay by her. They were stronger and more useful an ally than the weak Bajorans.

Evidently, subjectivity was no problem for the Intendant. She'd learned to separate what she truly felt from her politcal feelings. She referred to it as 'turning on her political eye'. Over the years, that eye had begun being turned on for all the time, even intermixing, mingling with her personal opinions. Or maybe it was just that fatal attraction she had always held for power. Naturally, those with more power were worthier of political alleigances.

"Thank you, Constable." She nodded at him. For a moment or two, her eyes lingered on him. The file had not said much about him, so she had deduced she might've as well read it. He was listed as a shape-shifter with a keen sense for justice. His appearance seemed rather regular, and in spite of all, somewhere in the back, Isabel felt an urge to ask him to change shape for her. Of course, she repressed it. It would have been rather childish, really. And her childishness was something she had unwillingly but gladly gotten rid of a long time ago.

"I assume you would like to be shown to your quarters first?" Odo inquired in what one could have called a polite tone. Isabel felt it was more among the lines of official.

"No." Her reponse seemed to be surprising, "I would like to see the Prefect first."

Going to her quarters, taking even more time for rest and relaxation…it would have presented the Cardassians with the image of a person stalling for time, hiding. Isabel did intend on gaining their favor, but she most certainly had no intention of bowing to them or fearing them. She was a person with a firm standpoint, and she was going to represent herself as such.

"Very well, then." A hint of admiration came from the Constable, "I will have your luggage transported to your quarters in the meantime. If you'd please follow me."

She did, without a word, giving him a nod. As they made their way towards the turbolift, she noticed the eyes of quite a few Cardassians stopping at her. A smile curved her lips. Was she attractive to them or were they merely repulsed by a human on their station? She found both options more than just quite possible…in the same time. There was no trace of shyness within her; Isabel openly admitted to herself and to anyone who asked that she thought of herself as beautiful.

Her hair was long, wavy, and dark, currently falling down her slim shoulders freely, except for one part that was tied up not to get into her eyes. Their emerald color was something she was very proud of. Her figure was curvacious and quite slim, and she moved with grace and style...mostly because of her confidence. There was no hesitation in any of her steps. Even when she knew she might not have been right, Isabel went on with the certainity of a natural leader.

"Don't let the stares intimidate you." Odo said as they entered the turbolift, "I'm certain they'll get used to having a human onboard…in due time."

She chuckled, "Oh, Constable, you must have conferred with a wrong source about humans. The stares do not intimidate me in the slightest."

"What do you make of them?" He seemed puzzled.

Isabel shrugged; "I am a new face. And a human…I suppose they even please me in a way."

The smile on her face faded away the ever so slight one on his. He drew back, murmuring silently; "I think the Prefect is going to like you."

He meant it, she could've seen it in his eyes, and imminent success displayed itself in front of her right away. She would have gladly given herself the credit for using Odo as a pre-test, but she knew this had happened completely by chance. Chance and luck sometimes were her best friends.

But she wasn't about to leave something as important as her actual talk with the Prefect to them. Even best friends could've stabbed your back before giving you a chance to turn around. Pessimism was healthy.

"If you'd wait here." Odo let her out of the turbolift, heading towards the office himself. Isabel ignored the looks the Cardassians gave her, focusing all her attention on the door the changeling was headed towards. It was in an elevated position, forcing you to look up with respect. Not that it _forced_ her. But she was not a trained Cardassian military officer.

Odo returned quickly, giving her a brief chance to assess the command centre. It was efficent, dark, hot…all in all, nothing was off with it. It had nearly the same air as the Promenade, one that did not shed a trace upon any horrors or crimes towards Bajorans happening. Isabel was certain that was just they way they wanted it. Constant reminders of deaths and sufferings, even of your own victims, were not quite among pleasant things.

"The Prefect will see you, Intendant."

"Thank you." Of course he would see her; her voice clearly showed there had never been any doubt in her mind about that. Not casting another look upon the officers working around her, she climbed the stairs and entered the office.

It was no different than she had imagined it.

Normal size, nicely decorated but not extravagant. Efficent, just like the operations centre.

However, not all had been foreseen by her.

It was still too dark, too hot, but that darkness and that heat were alluring to her here. She must have felt the aura of power emitting around the man who sat behind the desk, in front of the vast window that showed Bajor.

For a moment, she stopped breathing. This was the perfect position for the ruler of the planet. Her face betrayed not a sign of it, but her head raised slightly in appreciation, admiration of the Prefect. From here, everything appeared to be under his command. Isabel felt brief certainity that if he asked for any star on the sky, it would have been brought straight to him.

That was an impressive quality of a leader. Making people fear you, obey you…abide you, as it was evident he did. Yes, she was impressed by the dark haired, dark eyed Prefect. She was certain that for Cardassian standards, he was handsome. Or perhaps his position had influenced her opinions.

She formed a picture of him very quickly, quicker than she ever had of anyone else in her life. Most of the things about him she felt, merely felt, and had no fact to support them. But she was completely sure they were true.

"Gul Dukat." Her voice was formal, friendly, perhaps slightly provocative. Isabel Kellis' usual, anyone who knew her would have said.

"Intendant." He spoke slowly, leaning back in his chair, devoting her his full attention. She felt completely exposed, his eyes dancing all over her body. Finally, they met hers, not giving her enough time to consider the said further(usually, that would have made her very defiant); "I am certain Odo has already welcomed you to the station…but I would like to do so myself. I hope you like it here so far."

Natural eloquence, charisma…quite close to perfect. Smiling slightly, she nodded her head.

"So far, I do." She paused, "And I hope that will not change."

"We certainly have that in common." He motioned at the empty seat, and she accepted the offer, sinking gracefully into it, "You have been given acommodations?"

"Yes. The Constable had my luggagge transported there the moment I boarded the station."

"And nobody gave you any trouble? The Bajorans, perhaps?" She tried to see a hidden motive for him asking that question, but it eluded her.

"No. Everything went smoothly."

"Good."

He appeared pleased. There was a brief silence, very brief, during which he seemed to decide between moving onto business or remaining at casual topics. Finally, he chose for the former.

"I know that you have been sent here to make our attempts at completely gaining control of Bajor more difficult, Intendant…But I hope our relationship can be a good one nonetheless."

Isabel chortled, throwing back her hair. It was nothing deliberate-just a habit she had picked up from her older sister during very early age. Most men took it as flirting; she did not mind that. It did give her a huge advantage.

"Another thing we have in common. I would also dare add the fact that I don't hold anything personal against your Occupation...and that making it difficult is hardly my prime goal here."

It took Dukat less than a fraction of a second to answer to that. His wit was _very _charming. Isabel was satisfied; it seemed it was not going to be unpleasant for her, attempting to gain favor with him.

"If we have _that_ much in common, Miss Kellis…then I would not put it past us to develop a far better relationship than merely a friendly one."

They both laughed now, Isabel extremely pleased with herself. Her mission had indeed started off well. If the rest of it went on like this, she was easily going to make a fine living here on Terok Nor.


	3. Fatal Attractions

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Isabel had not enjoyed the hard Cardassian bed in her quarters. Other than that, they were fine. The decorations were passable, even though she was doubtlessly going to add more to that part. The view was excellent; Bajor and two of its moons. The stars surrounding it were already an essential part of the décor she was going to enrich the room with.

She had gotten the second best quarters on the station. Really, she had expected the Cardassians to assign a Federation envoy to the worst place that qualified for someone of her position. The open-handedness surprised her nicely, and increased her enthusiasm about this assignment.

The conversation with Gul Dukat yesterday had been brief but positive.

Isabel was now truly glad that she had not read the Starfleet Intelligence reports on him. She was certain they would have described him as an arrogant tyrant, completely negative at all points. Her impression was much more pleasant. She had seen him as arrogant, alright, they wouldn't have been wrong about that part. But none of the reports could have fully depictured the charm that came with that arrogance, the attractive darkness of the tyranny they held him guilty of…and its power. Intoxicating, she would have called it…all the things he had, all the things he could have done.

Starfleet Intelligence reports had never _met _the Cardassian.

That was were they differed with her. And that was where she had an advantage. Knowing all that, having _experienced_ it, seen it with her own eyes, felt it on her own skin…Isabel was beginning to develop a strategy of how to deal with Dukat. One she felt was going to be succesful.

A pleased look crossed her face as she checked her own reflection in the mirror. Yesterday, she had worn a Starfleet Uniform. She'd been forced to, but frankly, she had never liked those, and had barely waited to slip into what she was going to call her 'Terok Nor Uniform'.

It was a black outfit, a dress, actually, reaching just above her knees. The skirt of it was slightly wider, but the bodice pressed tightly against her full bosom, emphasizing it. On her feet were black heels, about 5cm, her favorite. It very much resembled the dresses of latest Cardassian fashion…except for the color. The Cardassian women preferred white.

Her black hair was in an elegant bun, one strand falling by her face. It gave her a dose of glamour she had aimed to achieve. During her career, the Intendant had never been able not to care about her looks. She only recalled trying to appear as if she did not care to gain a natural look…It had worked out quite well, but only on the outside.

Odo was waiting for her on the Promenade in order to give her a tour of the station. She had to admit she was slightly disappointed the Prefect had not chosen to perform that duty himself. But it hardly mattered…it was, after all, only her first day here. Time was her friend right now.

Taking a final glance at herself, she twirled around and headed out of her quarters. She'd already had breakfast, rather alone than going to any of the services aboard. Today, she had first impressions to make.

Odo greeted her with respect, but there was abandon in his impeccable demeanour. She felt it; he must have been disappointed or greatly surprised by some aspect of her. She knew there were many things about her that could surprise one, so she did not bother with it. However, she also carefully palced the detail into her memory…for further use in the future.

"Good morning, Constable." Her smile was sincere.

"I trust you have had a good night?" Odo inquired, motioning at the door of his office. Isabel followed him in, taking the seat he offered her at his desk. The Constable himself moved over to his own chair, dropping down into it.

"Yes, thank you for asking. Everything has passed just fine…no doubt thanks to your efficent security system."

He nodded, faintly acknowledging the compliment. It struck her he might not have been among those to enjoy being set in the centre of attention.

"I do what I can. With this Prefect, I am afraid it has to be the very best."

The raising of her eyebrows was accompanied by a nearly simultaneous explanataion.

"There have been six assassination attempts on his life by now. All, as you can see, unsuccesful. That gives us reason enough to surround him with security officers on his every step, in my eyes."

She agreed. And she knew that this was probably all that Odo should have said to her, and that they were supposed to start the tour if they intended to finish it by lunch. However, for some reason, she sensed vast curiosity building up inside of her. Curiosity for the Prefect. Isabel realized that she yearned to know more about him, his ways, his daily routine…he simply evoked interest within her.

So, before even giving it any further thought, she gave in to that interest.

"I am certain the Prefect appreciates your efforts to keep him…in one piece." She said, just as Odo was about to push away from his chair. He froze at her words, slowly sinking back. Had she not known better, she would have said his expression varied with inquisitiveness. For a moment, Isabel felt as if she had been caught doing something she should not have been doing, as if Odo had seen through her.

The feeling went away soon enough, as soon as the Constable spoke.

"I believe he does. At least he should. I do make sure that he is accompanied during his each and every visit to Quark's…" His eyes lingered on hers, as if expecting a reaction to receiving that information. Isabel withstood his gaze, nodding her head.

_Draw back now. Retreat._

An inner voice warned her. But, since she had spent her entire life ignoring or defying that very voice, it was hardly a problem for her to do so now. Even though a part of her, the diplomat, the careful and cunning one, deemed it right.

"How often is that?" The nonchalant tone of her voice was what she believed was going to make up for the unusual nature of the question; that and the batting of her eyelashes around her green pools.

Yet there was a flaw in her logic. Constable Odo was not humanoid.

Traces of any disguise left his face, and he leaned in, a sharp look enevloping his face. Isabel did not flinch, but she was certain anyone else would have. It was easy to see why had Gul Dukat chosen him for this position; he was perfect for interrogations, solving problems of the mind, objectivity. Secretly applauding that choice, she returned her attention to Odo before her.

"I really don't see any plausible reason for your sudden interest for the Prefect, Intendant." His words were flat, cold, carefully laid out.

Isabel saw a perfectly normal reason for her curiosity; the fact that he was her superior and that she was going to work for him dor a very long time. Besides, he merely intrigued her. She saw no need to investigate 'why' any further. She never had with other people.

"There are many plausible causes, Constable." She spoke emotionlessly, not moving for an inch from her initial position, "You might wish to consider the fact that he is my immediate superior that I have only just met…and that I am rather…intrigued by him and his way of managing such an important position."

Her voice, silent, nearly a whisper, but meaningful, did not take Odo aback, but he did move back towards his seat. A pleased smirk curved Isabel's lips at that. He had taken the message; he was not to trifle with her and he was to always remember that she was _his_ superior, if Dukat was hers.

"Now," She raised, grinning at the Constable, "We really should get started on that tour, shouldn't we?"

The nod, reluctant but obedient, was, as she very well knew, the best she could and was going to get out of him.

That pleased her enough. She could work with it.

„What do you think about our…newest addition, Constable?"

The Prefect spoke casually, without too much keen interest, but also not indifferently. Odo, however, had known him long enough to realize the true meaning of it. Gul Dukat had always had certain tendencies for pretty women. The Intendant definitely was a beautiful one.

No wonder she had acted so self-assuredly in his office before. Many would have mistaken it for standard Federation certainity and righteousness, but Odo had worked with people even longer than he had known Dukat, and he recognized ulterior motives at the Intendant's behaviour as well. Not motives, really. More among the lines of causes.

The Federation carried certainity of their Direcitve, their morales, their principles. Isabel Kellis carried around certainity of what she'd refer to as 'me, myself and I'. In other words, she placed litte faith in the Prime Directive, and more faith into her own powers of manipulation, cunning and, eventually, seduction.

Not that he could blame her. It was far wiser and obviously provided much better results.

Odo had an opinion of the Intendant…he believed her to be a brilliant, but a dangerous woman. Now, he was going to say what he thought, because he always did; sincerity was something as strong as his sense of justice and he was not quite good at concealing something when he wished not to.

But he still did have two options. He could either be completely frank and speak of the contempt he felt he was going to develop for the Intendant sooner or later. Of how he believed she was not likely to lift a finger to aid the oppressed Bajorans, and how he found that quite distasteful.

Or he had the option of choosing his words carefully, showing his feelings with a certain dose of discretion-his usual, and current choice. More subtle, more wise.

Besides, he doubted the Prefect would have appreciated hearing how he frowned on the characteristics of Miss Kellis that he(Dukat) proudly possessed himself. Not that Odo cared for whether Dukat appreciated his words. He merely had no desire to waste any.

"Ah." He shifted on his seat in the Prefect's office, "Miss Isabel Kellis appears to have also expressed…some interest for you."

"Did she?" Dukat cocked his head, amused, "What exactly did she ask? And what did you tell her?"

"Apparently," The Constable went on, "She was quite willing to learn more about your visits to Quark's."

"How willing?"

_Excellent. How willing, how often….the same questions from both of them. I'd hoped for at least the Federation Intendant to differ from Dukat…now I seem to be stuck with two same superiors._

Naturally, he said not a word of what passed through his mind, instead answering the question straight.

"Willing enough to ask me quite openly."

"So…" Dukat pondered, "That would be a rather good sign, coming from a woman with an obvious talent for subtlety, wouldn't it?"

"Talent for subtlety?" He scowled, and spoke further underneath Dukat's questioning gaze, "I can't say that the Intendant has struck me as a…subtle woman."

The Prefect cackled, the amusement on his face growing.

"Really, Odo, sometimes you simply don't understand humanoids as good as you deem yourself to. But you are right, perhaps subtlety is not the right word. More among the lines of a talent for…" He paused, frowning "Deceit! Intrigue. And thing similar."

"True." Odo had to agree on this one, "That was, frankly, an opinion I have formed of her during our first turbolift ride together…on the way to your office yesterday."

"Oh? And what exactly was the reason to that?"

_He certainly is interested. _Odo thought. By now, he would have gone as far as placing a bet on Dukat and the Intendant ending up in his bedchamber by the end of this week. Perhaps that would have been stretching it…he would give them two weeks.

"It was simply…a sixth sense, I believe. The sparkle in her eyes, mostly." Odo emphasized the last part, only to see the same sparkle appear in the Prefect's eyes. He barely restrained a victorious _Hah!_ from leaving his mouth. _That is why I recognized where to place her so quickly…with the depicture of those points near me every day._

Dukat seemed to be completely ignorant of Odo's silent reference. _With his ego, it's a wonder he sees _anything_ else. _The Constable gritted his teeth slightly and waited.

"Odo." Dukat raised from the chair, walking over to the window. He stared out of the window for a few seconds, and then spun around with a mischiveous grin that could have brought no good.

"I find Intendant Kellis quite a compelling individual. I would be looking forward to…acquanting myself with her further." The true meaning of his words could have hardly escaped anyone, even though it came out highly polished, just as anything the Prefect said, "Make sure she gets that message."

Odo opened his mouth to cut in, but a quick wave of Dukat's hand prevented him.

"Subtly…of course."

"Gul Dukat." Odo's brow furrowed, "I might be your security officer, your inferior officer and on your station, but I believe that the force to make me an official…matchmaker is yet to be invented."

The annoyance in his voice was clear; the shape-shifter had always found the humanoid desire to date, mate and court irritating to say the least. The concept of himself participating in such things in any way was detestable to him.

Unfortunately, as he knew only too well, Dukat was not the sort of man you could simply say 'no' to. No matter how trivial the matter at hand was. He never could have stood someone defying his authority.

"Odo." He chortled, shaking his head, "I am not asking you to be a matchmaker. I am merely presenting you with an answer for the Intendant…lest she ask."

"Ah." Odo tilted his head, "So I am to be an unofficial matchmaker. Even worse."

"Need I not remind you, Constable, "Dukat strolled back to his desk, "That you are on this station and assuming your current position by my courtesy only."

"Meaning?" Odo stiffened. He knew too well what it meant. On the inside, he already prepared himself for performing the said duty.

"Meaning…that when I give you an order, I expect you to obey it." The iron in his voice was the final sign of Odo's defeat. Why had he even tried?

Nodding his head, he stood up; "Yes..sir."

Dukat smiled; "There. That is better. You may go now." He motioned at the door.

Odo followed promptly, ready to return to his duties. However, at the doorstep, he was stopped by the Prefect's voice again.

"And Odo…do remember to be _subtle_._"_

For a moment, Odo lingered, at the verge of protesting, but then gave it up. With a long, defeated sigh with traces of spite, he nodded his head and left.


	4. Dinner, Madam Intendant?

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Isabel had quite enjoyed the tour of the station. More because of the quite obedience Odo had shown her after their little discussion in his office than because of what she had seen. She was satisfied by the way Gul Dukat had things running. The Constable had obviously tried his hardest to give her a full representation of how much the Bajorans were suffering. Isabel had not paid much attention to that part.

True, they were not really having it brilliant. They were not even having it good. But she saw it this way; she could have either cried over the Bajoran situation, where she could truly change nothing, or associate herself with the powerful Cardassians, therefore aiding both herself and the Federation with better allies. Power was an aphrodisiac she recognized from miles away.

And the entire station screamed of Dukat's power.

As soon as Odo finished showing her around, Isabel had an another engagement. She had to meet Zolan, the former second-in-command of the station before her arrival. He was going to brief her on everything and turn over the authorisation codes she needed in order to fully take over her position.

She had to say she was quite looking forward to it, in spite of the logic-defying nature of that fact. Zolan was most certainly not pleased with a human exchanging him after all the hard work it must have taken him to achieve his position.

Isabel, though, liked jealousy when coming from others and directed to her. It gave her a feeling of accomplishment, showing her that she had something others wished they could have. It was something similar to power, power's close friend, actually. And when someone is a friend of your friend…

Zolan had chosen Quark's for the meeting place, since he had no office. Neither was she going to…unless she managed to gain true favor, which was not that unlikely at all.

As she entered, the Intendant found looks falling on her. With a tilt of her chin, she sought for Zolan. There were plenty Cardassian men sitting at tables, but only one was alone, grim and only one nodded at her coldly.

Isabel approached his table, sitting down.

"Glinn Zolan…Intendant Isabel Kellis."

She did not extend her hand, and it proved a prudent move. Zolan did not appear as someone who wished to shake it or kiss it.

"Intendant." His greeting was flat, "I trust that you will be able to see my reluctance to discuss anything but getting straight to business."

A nod and a smile came from the young woman. A friendly smile, that was meant to and did aggitate him more than any insult or punch would have.

"Agreed."

Eying her contemptively for a second, Zolan's look then drifted to the padd before him, and he pushed it towards her strongly…as if intending to hurt her with it. Isabel caught it ably with her hand, her smile not faltering.

"Your access codes. I have also…taken the liberty of adding the briefing to that, so there will be no need for further…communication."

Her green eyes skimmed over the padd, appearing pleased. She was pleased. Or at least enough to admit this situation had a certain comical quality to it.

"Thank you, Glinn Zolan." She looked up at him, to see he was still staring at her all but amicably.

"And…do try to get rid of that gloomy look, won't you? I don't know why do you think I am here, but I most certainly will not interrupt with your duties concerning the Bajorans…" A meaningful pause, " Unless I deem it appropriate."

"Then the question is_, Madam_…"Zolan leaned in, almost as if he had been ready for this, "What your standards for appropriate are."

"That…" Her eyebrows jumped on her face coyly, "Would be my business."

Zolan drew back, nodding his head curtly.

"Understood…madam." And he got up, walking out of the bar.

As she eyed Quark running after him reminding him of his bill with a corner of her eye, Isabel reflected on her actions. She had tried to make their terms friendlier, all right. But gaining favor with Cardassians was not the same as sucking up to them. She certainly had no intention of using the latter to satisfy the former. Her pride would never have allowed it.

The last time she had used pure, clear sucking up was when she had needed a higher grade during the Academy. So she was no stranger to it. It was only the very last resort on her list.

And it had not yet gotten to that. The Prefect seemed to like her. And that, she thought, glaring self-assueredly after Zolan's back, was more than enough, no matter what Zolan thought of her.

"Excuse me, Madam Intendant!"

Her eyes jumped to the source of the voice addressing her, only to see a relatively tall(for his species) Ferengi staring at her obsequiously.

"Yes?" She inquired, her mind still on other matters.

"I have a message to deliver to you, Madam. From the Prefect."

"Oh?" This brought him the full devotion of her attention, Zolan slowly earsing from her thoughts. Think of the wolf…

"He extends to you an invitation to dinner. Tonight, at his quarters." For a moment, he watched her curiously, "Do you accept, Madam?"

A sense of accomplishment streamed through Isabel again.

Well, that was something, an invitation to a private dinner. And coming from such an intriguing man, even when disregarding the fact he was the Prefect of Bajor. Slowly, a grin made its way, curving her lips as she stared back at the Ferengi.

"Yes. You may notify the Prefect to expect me at…19:00 hours?"

"Precisely." The Ferengi nodded fiercly, "Thank you, Intendant."

And he was already on his way, nearly frantic to inform Dukat of the success. He probably expected a reward…nothing but Latinum could have made a Ferengi that happy.

She, on the other hand, needed far more. Or less, in the eyes of some. As she sank back into her chair, the grin could not have been exiled from her face.

Gul Dukat had invited her to dinner. To his quarters. Mere graciousness?

Or had he taken a true interest in her?

So she liked to think.

"Welcome, Intendant. Allow me to notice you look splendid indeed."

Dukat moved aside, letting Isabel enter. His quarters were, as she expected, far better and larger than hers. While someone else might have minded that and called it unjust, Isabel found herself quite liking it. A leader always had toe xcel among his inferiors. And his equals. It was a highly respected trait in her eyes.

The view offered, just as his office, Bajor, even though it was not quite as breathtaking. It was good enough , though. Again better than any other.

"Thank you." She gave him a flash of a smile some liked to call irresistable, "I did have to take care of my appearance for dinner with the Prefect of Bajor."

Truly, she had. Her hair was falling freely down her shoulders, in stark opposition of her pale complexion and her red lipstick, which matched her green eyes and her equivalently red dress. It was tight, of about the same length as the one of her so-called uniform, with a greater amount of decolletage showing. She wore the same black heels.

"Another reason for me to really crave for remaining on this position." He laughed, "Please, have a seat."

She did, as gracefully as ever, taking special care to smile at him again. Odo had been right when he'd said she had full confidence in the power of her seduction.

Dukat seemed to posses the same confidence, for he slid into his seat in the very same way, intentionally slowly, in order for her to notice it, letting his look travel to her cleavage.

On its way up, it met with hers, and Isabel merely batted her eyelashes, looking content.

_Even flattered. _Flattered? Oh, no! Not Isabel Kellis. She was too aware of her assets to ever feel flattered. The way she saw it, attention from men was a sign of more common sense. _Not flattered. Why have I even thought of such a thing!_

"Now, before we initiate our meal…have you ever tried _kanar_?"

As if nothing had happened as well, Isabel shook her head; "I'm afraid I haven't. Not that I have had many opportunities to be introduced to it."

"Well, the time has come now." He chuckled, opening the bottle on the table and pouring the substance into the two glasses, "I…together with the rest of Cardassia…find its taste quite satisfying."

Isabel took her glass as it was filled, gently hitting it against his in a toast. Then she brought it to her lips, ready to take a sip.

"There are plenty of things that Cardassians find satisfying…but the rest of the galaxy doesn't." She fixed her eyes on Bajor, viewable through the window to their right, "The Occupation, for example."

Then she sipped her drink.

It tasted quite well, really.

"Perhaps a tad stronger than what I'm used to…but I like it just as well." She paused, "If not better."

This time her eyes remained locked with Dukat's, not moving towards Bajor, but he understood the allusion her remark had carried. And a wide grin spawned on his lips as a result, accompanied by a chortle.

"You are a remarkable woman, Intendant." He moved closer to her, "But I must say I wouldn't put it past you to be putting up an act now merely to…gain my favor?"

The lightness of his tone did not escape her, so she let out a laugh, throwing back her hair.

"Gul Dukat…I have just been thinking about that today. There is a vast difference between gaining favor and, to put it plainly, sucking up. Saying such a thing without meaning it…would certainly have belonged to the latter."

"And I take it you do not indulge such activities?" Dukat asked casually. Isabel could not have missed the seduction in his voice, though.

"You assume correctly." She nodded, again bringing the glass to her mouth.

"I never said I assumed…" He moved back, conently "I knew."

The rest of the dinner went on perfectly for Isabel. She could not have asked for greater enjoyment. They talked, discussed, tried to outwit each other, decide which one had more charisma, joked, laughed…At certain points, she would find herself captured by his eyes, or a movement that he made, or a simple twitch of his face. Somehow, she felt it was not connectable to the amount of _kanar_ she'd drunk.

Good things come to an end soon, and so was the case with this dinner. It was nearing midnight when Isabel finally managed to get up from the sofa without falling straight back, and decided it was time to go.

Dukat, whose chivalry had not been affected by the _kanar_, offered to accompany her to her quarters.

"They are a deck below, Miss Kellis. We both know that anything could happen to such a beautiful woman during such a walk…althought I have no doubt you would be able to handle whoever attacked you." His eyes glowed briefly, "Needless to say, even if you did not, I would make sure they were executed right away if they even thought of harming you in any way."

"You flatter me indeed, Gul Dukat." Again flattery…Oh, well…a harmless lie here or there could not hurt, could it? Since it was a lie…and it had been said…

"Not any less than you deserve." He made a mock bow, causing her to giggle. He had been literally bathing her in compliments for the entire evening. Bathing…it did sound nice, him bathing her really…

_It is just_ kanar. She thought, rather amused by her own stream of thoughts as they walked towards the turbolift. The walls did seem to dance slightly.

They encountered nobody. The corridors seemed to be empty, just as the turbolift. It suited Isabel. She wouldn't want her reputation to be ruined…the Intendant, walking around the station in a rather intoxicated state…

The ride and the walk took a relatively short amount of time. Pretty soon, they were standing in front of her door, she leaning against the panel to open it.

"Well…I believe we have reached our destination." She said, trying her hardest to recall the code. Now, what was it? It did have eight digits, she remembered that much…

"Do you need help with that?" Dukat asked, his voice a bit teasing. Isabel snorted lightly.

"I don't think so, sir. Because I have just…" She typed 5-6-9-1-8-2-3-4, and the door slid open with a compressing sound, "Remembered!" She exclaimed triumphantly.

"That is a shame." She walked in, turning to face him, holding the wall for support, "I was hoping you would be forced to remain in my quarters for the remainder of the night."

"Oh?" Isabel raised her eyebrows, "Well, you wish, Prefect."

"Mhmm." He murmured, stepping closer, one of his arms gently landing on her shoulder. It was then when she, too aware of his touch, and excited by it, made a step to move away, losing her balance.

Dukat caught her, with both arms now, therefore entering the quarters. His eyes playing over her smugly, he leaned her against the wall. Isabel was too…overwhelmed to utter a word. She struggled to find a way out of that state, but it was impossible. Whatever he wanted to do, she found that she was perfectly fine with it, without any dilemmas. All she needed for reassurance were his dark, grey-blue orbs gazing intently at her, like two deep universes, one could've so easily gotten lost in if losing their focuse for just a moment.

Finally, she regained the power of speech, and the words coming out of her mouth surprised even herself.

"Perhaps…we shouldn't risk another assassination attempt on you occurring on your way back, Gul Dukat." She found that she was whispering, as playfully as she could, mostly breathless, "Maybe it would be for the best…if you stayed here?"

"It most certainly would…" He was moving closer, his eyes, his lips attracting her like a magnet. Just before kissing her, just before taking her heart and claiming it with his lips, he whispered one, silent word, barely audible, but very loud to her; "Intendant."


	5. Aftermath, Aftermath

Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

The following morning, Isabel came to Odo's office with a very bad headache. She was managing to hide it rather well, no doubt with the aid of the glowing joy in her heart.

The first thought that had come to her as she woke up in the empty bed had been: _I have slept with the Prefect._

It should have alerted her. It should have made her feel ashamed, embarassed, since she had known him for scarcely a couple of days. Whatever people might have said, Isabel was not an easy woman…a whore. Perhaps she sometimes overindulged in flirting(and self-confidence), but she had only gotten to the last 'level' with men she had really cared for and had really been serious with.

Up until now.

So she lied in her bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for regret to come in one great pang, one great burst that was going to knock her out.

The only things that came were nausea and dizziness.

It took her a while to grasp that she was not feeling remotely sorry for what had happened the night before. As a matter of fact, upon returning to the time when he caressed her with his hands, when he held her tight, when he kissed her and made love to her, she felt…joy. Pure, estatic joy…and a desire for it to happen again.

He'd left her quarters earlier, with no note, no message…nothing. She was not quite certain what to make of that. It might have been taken as a sign of running away from her and what had happened….but Dukat was no coward. It might have been on purpose, to leave her roasting…wondering about what he'd wanted to tell her. Other men would have most certainly left her something if they wished to pursue anything further…but Dukat was not like other men. That very mystery that shrouded him was what made him so attractive.

Even though it was far from obvious that she was suffering from a hangover, it never escaped the watchful eye of Constable Odo. As soon as she stepped in through his door, he knew that she was moving slow this morning.

And he also happened to know she had had a dinner with Gul Dukat last night.

How? The courtesies of being a changeling.

"I would blame my imagination for the fact that you seem as if you have enjoyed your_ kanar_ too much last night, but since I have none, I can't." He said instead of a greeting, plying her with his glare.

Usually, she would have reprimanded him, as yesterday, she would have showed him once again that she was superior to him, but in spite of the dull pain in her temples, she was feeling as if in a good mood today.

"How very curteous of you, Constable. I'm not going to ask how you know about last night…" She did not go as far as to smile.

"I have my sources." Odo bobbed his head, "I only hoped you haven't done anything you might regret during…intoxication."

Isabel flinched, surprise reflecting in her eyes as she raised her head to fix them on his.

"Why, Constable…I was wrong about you. Shape-shifters do have a sense of humor!" She laughed now.

The small smile on Odo's face remained steady.

"We…or should I say _I_…do."

"Good." She said approvingly, "Just don't let it get the best of you."

The coldness of the last part made Odo draw back once more.

"Here is the report you requested. All the Bajorans that have been executed in this year, plus the list of their crimes and a short background of them." He halted, "I most sincerely hope you can lower that rate and--"

Isabel had stopped listening to him only a few seconds after he had handed her the report. Something on the Promenade had caught her eye.

A young Bajoran woman was standing alone, tall and proud, just in front of the entrance to the airlocks. She could have been about…what, sixteen, seventeen? Definitely not older than twenty. There was a veil of blond hair surrounding her face, which was not remarkably beautiful, but definitely pretty and striking. Her figure was slim, with a not yet fully developed bosom.

The reason Isabel had noticed her hadn't had anything to do with her appearance. It was her position. Not posture, but _position_. Her hands were extended and bid together…as if in a prayer. And they were turned towards them.

It took her a few seconds to connect the dots, and when she did, it was rather late. Her brain assessing the situation quickly, she cleraly saw there was no way of stopping the woman. Not now, when she had already begun putting the very core of her plan into motion.

The smartest and probably the most logical thing would have been to merely remain sitting and call for help. All others would have been pretty much foolish and pretty much useless if made to avoid any physical damage to herself.

But sitting and calling security would not have done much, or any good to aid the present situation. And if for no other reason than her pride, Isabel was not about to allow anyone to be able to say that she, Isabel Kellis, had not dared to act, screaming like a damsel in distress. Nobody was going to be given reason to call her a coward.

All of this occurring within her mind in a fraction of a second, Isabel jumped to her feet, rushing towars Odo. She extended her hands in an arch and lurched towards him, a sharp shout leaving her mouth;

"Get down!"

It was too late. Isabel knew it was too late, because she wasn't feeling anything. It meant that Odo had been hit, it must have, for she was not as quick to outrun a disruptor beam.

Well, it could have gone worse, she reminded herself. He could've been dead, which he obviously wasn't, because she heard his voice…just that she couldn't quite grasp what he was saying. She could've been dead, too.

Her instincts had, as usually, taken the right turn. She would've smiled, if her facial muscles didn't seem so sore…actually, ever muscle in he body seemed sore. This surprised her...had she not been taking enough exercise lately? Surely one jump could not have done this to her.

It must have been the _kanar. Kanar. _Such a tasty substance…and what consequences it brought along. But she was not going to regret it…because the good things outweighed the bad ones.

Now, she saw going to get up from the floor, call security and get Odo to the Infirmary. Then, she was going to see to it that the Bajoran woman was executed. She was certain that was the punishment to be inflicted upon her for this. Attempted murder of an official. Then she saw going to look over the report, and later take it to Dukat, to discuss any changes she wished to be made…if there were to be any. It hardly mattered, though. She was going to see Dukat, see were their…relationship, if there was to be any, was going to go.

If she could only get up…but why was this so far from possible?

_Come on, Isabel! A hangover is NOT going to stop you from performing your duties. Besides, Odo is here, in need of help—_

Wait a moment.

Was Odo hear? Because just as she thought of that, Isabel noticed one thing…she saw, all right. But _what? _She had vision, but the only thing before her eyes was a swirl of colors and lines.

Attempting to shake her head, she found her attempt unsuccesful. As a matter of fact, she wasn't _feeling_ her head. She truly was not feeling anything. Yet somehow it all hurt.

'_Help me!'_ She wanted to say, but she couldn't open her mouth, and her tongue seemed more like wood than its usual silver. The thought of calling for help soon left her mind…who was there to help her? Only Odo, who had been shot. Maye someone was going to pass by the Promenade and see her…

But how could she know that she wasn't in a perfectly normal position? Finding it hard to cocnentrate on anything, she tried returning to a normal state, un-freezing, to use such an expression. It was far from functional…

Suddenly, another thing came in. Her mind barely recognized it, but then she recalled how it was called…sounds! Sounds. No, not mere sounds, voices. Voices! And a lot of them. That was good. Now they were going to help her, get her out of this. Yes, a hypospray or two and she was going to be better right away…

One voice came into focus, barely loud enough to be heard in the buzz, but recognizable.

"….burns. The setting had been…malfunction, luckuly…..notify….Prefect should know…"

Odo! It was Odo. He was talking…which meant he was well. But how could he have been well? Isabel had recognized that gun…it had been a disruptor with massive firepower…it would've burned him completely. Even with his changeling phisiology.

So…her mind fought with the data,…if he hadn't been hit…and that was currently the only option…

"…been the target….down…maybe fatal…she…."

Fatal…she…had…

She had been shot!

The realization rushed through her, and all of a sudden, it all began to make more sense. The setting had been set to kill…but the disruptor had malfunctioned. That was why she wasn't dead…but with sever burns…and her condition might have been fatal.

Oh, perfect. So that was why she was feeling as if being pulled into another world. Because that was true. Isabel was _dying._

The thought unnerved her. There were so many things she hadn't done yet, so many things to do…to say…they could not be left untold forever! She could not die now!

_Work, doctors! Work! Save me!.._

If she did die, she thought, her last thoughts were going to be as commanding as her usual ones. She would die with her head up…or so she hoped. If not that, than with her pride up.

"….sir…sorry…….attempting to save……life….possible…."

Possible? So she was going to leave? K_eep at it, doctor!_ She caught herself cheering for him. The irony…

"…outrage…..insolence! I……executed! ……filthy Bajoran scum!..."

That voice. That voice. She recognized it. How could she have not, when it was one of her most important reasons to go on living! So many wonderful things could happen between her and Gul Dukat. They were going to, she was certain of this now, if she managed to escape death this time. Dying knowing she had missed such an opportunity..!

Even though she was half-dead, her body most likely covered in burns, Isabel felt flattered because of how _angry_ he was. There was no point in denying it now, she was flattered, just as she had been each and every time Dukat had paid her any sort of compliment. She'd been bathing in the feeling of flattery last evening.

He cared about her. He cared about her and nothing else….

"She's coming about, sir!"

After a long period of silence, that one, clear sentence came out loudly. Coming about. Coming about.

A thought reaped through her mind; _I'm going to live!_

A long, audible breath of relief came out of her lungs, and she actually_ felt_ it. She felt the way her chest raised and fell, the air entering and leaving…even her limbs, arms, legs…her head…which was still pounding equally as it had before.

Her eyesight wasn't back yet…wait, it was! She was merely keeping her eyes closed.

This way, her other senses were far more alert. As, for example, smelling and hearing. She could've smelled, all right…she could have felt his scent in the air. And that made her want to remain like this for just a tad longer, letting it flood her entire system through her nostrils. The scent he had left in her bed last night…

"Miss Kellis. Can you hear me?"

This finally made her heavy eyelids go up, revealing Dukat standing above her. His eyes were the first thing she spotted; his concerned eyes. The same concern was etched within them like the one she'd heard in his words before. How wonderful it was, having someone concerned for you, caring for you…!

Whoa! What was happening to her now? Where was all this…mushiness coming for? Anyone who knew Isabel Kellis would've never used 'mushy' to describe her. It would never even cross their minds. She had never had such corny and stupid thoughts before…

Oh, right. She had. In a second, Isabel was returned to ten years ago. She'd been seventeen, and had gone skiing in the Alps with her brother. Everything had been just fine…until she had fallen off the railway cable. Thirty meters high.

One moment, she'd been laughing at something she'd heard, and the other falling through crisp air and landing with a thud. It had been another near-death experience; the Doctors had barely brought her back to life. For the entire two days, she had been seeing everything with completely different eyes.

Maybe it was that she had been so close to losing it all, and now it had all gained a whole new level of appreciation. Such things changed people…even permamently.

Not Isabel, naturally. Last time, she'd been young and inexperienced. It had lasted for two days. Now, it was her second time, she was older, and wiser, she liked to think. That meant it should've been gone by the end of the day…in a few hours perhaps? Hell, she was glad. There was nothing she quite detested as mushiness.

"Yes." She finally got around answering Gul Dukat's question. Her throat was not as sore as she had expected it would be after what she had gone through.

Still getting accustomed to the fact she was able to breath and feel, Isabel tried pushing away from the biobed, only to be restrained by the Doctor's hand.

"I am sorry, Intendant, but it is of extreme importance that you rest. We have nearly lost you. You have suffered severe trauma to your internal organs, including your brain and heart, just as severe disruptor burns."

Wheezing, she obeyed, her eyes trailing to Dukat again. He was still standing above her, eying her carefully. Then his eyes darted to the Doctor.

"Tevak, how long will the Intendant need to remain here?"

As if he had read her mind. Surprise lasted only for a brief fraction of a second, soon replaced by content.

"I am not certain, sir." Tevak thought, "Two days at least."

"Great." Isabel gruntled, closing her eyes. She wanted to leave the Infirmary as soon as possible. The sooner that was, the sooner would these irritable mushy thoughts go away.

"It is for your own--" Tevak went on, only to be cut off by Dukat.

"Tevak, could you leave me and the Intendant alone?"

In spite of the questioning nature of what he'd said, it was clear it carried a distinct order. Tevak would've been blind not to have seen it. He quickly nodded.

"Yes, sir!"

And disappeared into his office.

They were alone.

Isabel had to admit she liked that fact…in spite of the current mushiness of her inner state. Or perhaps it was because of the mushiness--?

No. She had liked his presence yesterday just the same.

"So…" He stepped closer to her bed, "How are you feeling?"

Now, she managed a grin.

"As good as I can, I suppose." Her brow furrowed slightly, "What…exactly happened?"

Dukat exhaled shortly.

"An assassination attempt…on Odo."

"I know that much….even though I truly think any Bajoran to kill Odo would be a stupid one. If anyone is trying to ensure justice for them…"

"Then again…Bajorans aren't famous for their wits, are they?" He smiled, "You, obviously, saw what was going to occur and attempted to rescue Odo." He paused, "Instinctively, or have you grown to care for the Constable?"

Isabel laughed, waving her hand. The movement was rather painful.

"I believe you could call it an…instinctive act."

"Good. The Constable is a valuable asset to this station. I wouldn't have liked him dead." Commendation in his voice also told her that he was pleased by her answer.

"One way or another…you've succeeded. By endagering your life greatly." Here, Dukat's face darkened, "Had the disruptor not been malfunctioning, you would have been dead by now, Intendant. You would have died on the spot."

That, instead of scaring the hell out of her, made her feel good about herself. She had indeed risked a lot, proved her courage and her determination…her daring, too. _My old self is coming back; _She reflected. Her mushier counterpart would have undoubtedly been shocked by the fact.

"Luckily, I didn't."

Dukat did seem quite bemused and amused by the gaining certainity in her voice. Cocking his head, he looked her into the eye.

"Intendant…you certainly rank at the top of the most daring women I have met…and bravest, too." He smirked, "I believe that I am never going to regret choosing to get to know you…better."

"I only hope you mean that…in the full meaning of the words."

Dukat opened his mouth to say something, when he was suddenly interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Excuse me."

Isabel's gaze jumped towards it, only to see Odo standing at the entrance to the Infirmary.

"Yes, Odo?" Dukat sounded rather annoyed by the Constable's appearance, even though he hid it relatively well.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything…I have come to ask the Intendant a few questions."

Aware of the Prefect's look trailing to her, Isabel nodded her head.

"Yes, of course."

"All right, then." He agreed too, "I need to be getting back to work…" He locked his eyes with hers, "Just as I have promised to you, Intendant…any Bajoran or Cardassian that tries to harm you shall get a prompt execution."

It was clear Odo grew more attentive, interested to hear her response. Most likely to judge whether she was going to be consistent with her position.

She certainly was…with one of her positions.

"Thank you, Prefect."

Producing a small bow, Dukat left, leaving her and Odo alone. The latter was clearly displeased by her attitude, but nonetheless his expression edged with understanding. The Bajoran woman had nearly taken away her life…and had wanted to do so with his.

"Intendant." The Constable approached her bed, noticing that lying down did not take away any of her grace or commanding elegance, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." She nodded, "Considering what _could_ have happened…"

Pressing his lips against each other, Odo made an agreeing move, and hesitated only slightly before speaking the following lines.

"Miss Kellis…I wish to thank you for saving my life. Therefore, you had risked yours…and had that phaser not malfunctioned, you would have been dead."

Isabel's lips curved.

"Don't mention it, Constable. It was an instinctive reaction; I tend not to think or think and deduce too quickly in such situations."

"Well, I must say I am very thankful that you did…this time."

"Ah." She laughed shortly, "It must have been the _kana_r."

As he joined in with his laugh, Odo's mind was preoccupied by far greater cocnerns. It most certainly appeared to him that Isabel Kellis was not going to be the sort of Intendant Bajorans would have asked for. It was also clear to him that she had slept with Gul Dukat sooner than he ever would have guessed she would. She was evidently a woman more interested in her own pleasures than the greater good.

But the thought that most tenatively tortured his mind was not among any of those.

It had much more to do with the fact that now, as he stood there, he enjoyed her laughter, thought how beautiful her eyes looked under this light and how vibrant her hair was, with its midnight black shine. That was also aided by the fact the hospital dress she wore revealed far more than her usual uniform.

What tortured Odo was the fact that he was beginning to _like_ Isabel Kellis.

"What exactly happened to the 'do it subtly' part?" Odo inquired as emotionlessly as he could, staring flatly at the Prefect.

Dukat was rather surprised by his Security Officer's attitude. Even when he had strictly ordered him to arrange a date with Isabel Kellis, Odo had been reluctant to do it. One would've thought(and it would have been logical) that he was going to jump at the opportunity of being freed from the task.

"Odo, I'm surprised that you ask…I have been under the impression that you did not like being my, how did you put it, matchmaker?"

Odo flinched slightly.

"I still don't." He sought for apt words rapidly, "I merely want to be assured that such services are no longer required from me.

"So." Dukat seemed satisfied by the answer, and Odo nearly let out a breath of relief.

After leaving the Infirmary, Odo had spent a very long time haunted by what he had felt in there. The sudden attraction to Isabel, the woman he had been certain he detested utterly, had left him in quite a turmoil.

At first, he'd thought he might have mistaken some other feeling for attraction. But the more he had thought of it, the more obvious had it become what he'd felt had been no false alarm.

Attraction. Attraction. Temporary attraction, naturally. Odo was a changeling. He never could feel anything further for a humanoid. He was uncapable of pursuing a sexual relationship as far as he knew.

Yet again, a few days ago, he had been certain he was never to feel _attraction _for a humanoid.

"Well, it appears as if the Intendant does not mind a more direct approach from a man." Dukat mused, "No wonder, with her courage and daring." He paused, "Which brings up the matter…what was the name of that Bajoran woman that tried to kill you?"

"Her name _is _Tanal Lomarra." Odo pointed out. He had not yet executed the woman…or, more accurately, the girl.

"Well, the 'is' part will soon be changed to 'was', Constable." His voice was determined, "The day after tomorrow, 18:00 hours, on the Promenade. I want the Intendant to be able to watch."

The casual brutality of Cardassians had never quite ceased to both revulge and intrigue Odo. To them, lives were like toys. People equalled to pawns. Their system was made swift and efficent by that. And what was most unusual was that all of them were somehow always determined they were doing it all for the right cause.

"Of course." He nodded obediently, already feeling déjà vu. He had executed quite a number of people like this; a mere order from the Prefect and there would have been nothing he could've done. Not if he wished to keep this position for the sake of the Bajorans…which some of them, obviously, did not know how to appreciate.

"Why had she tried killing you, Odo?" Dukat twirled his chair around, crossing his arms. His tone was casual, as if he was discussing a holonovel, not an actual attempt on his co-conservator's life.

"It seems that her fiancee, Nohara Tol, was the one we executed last week for the attack on Glinn Reled." Odo coulnd't have elided a snort, "I am certain she never knew that, if it hadn't been for me, his entire family would have been excecuted…including her."

"Well, you will get your revenge on this one, Constable." Dukat appeared as if he half-expected for Odo to snort again. He didn't, but spoke rather self-righteously;

"I don't want revenge, I want respect. Unfortunately…I will never fully gain it."

Dukat shrugged.

"Then you will just have to satisfy for the former."

Odo produced only a curt half-nod, which meant that no satisfaction was going to come to him from that.

"If that would be all, Constable…"

"Actually," Odo cut in, "There is one more thing."

Dukat's eyes raised from the report; "Yes?"

Odo found himself lingering. Was he truly in possession of a good reason to be asking about this? Yes, he was, of course he was. He would have asked about it anyway sooner or later again…right? _Of course, of course!_ He said to himself, again taking efforts to keep his composure. Why was he bothering with such trivial litte details?

"I wanted to ask…"Dukat seemed to be noticing something was going on, because he placed the report back onto his desk slowly. Odo spoke the rest of it so quickly the Prefect would have certainly noticed something was _truly _off, had the context of the words not surprised him so much.

"Are your intentions with the Intendant serious or not?"

Dukat's expression travelled from stupefied to amused, then bordered shortly between the two, before he finally burst into laughter.

Odo felt discomfort filling him. He had been discovered. He hadn't been secretive enough, he had aksed a question too obviously pointing at his motives. He was doomed.

When he finished laughing, the Prefect stared at Odo, looking nearly mischievous.

"Odo…you haven't taken…a bit more interest in the Intendant than…appropriate, have you?"

"Of course not." Odo said almost too quickly, shaking his head rather impulsively, "I am merely inquiring…since I have always been encouraged to explore humanoid relationships…"

It sounded fake even to him, but he prayed Dukat would buy it. Odo had been protective about his privacy even when his only secrets were when and how he reverted to his liquid state. If it leaked out that he had a romantic interest for Isabel Kellis-which he did not-he was not sure what exactly would he do.

"Hmmm." Dukat leaned back, his face unreadable, "Well, you have nothing to worry about one way or another. You see, the relationship I have with the Intendant is like that I have had with plenty of women here…nothing new. For pleasure only. I'm sure both she and I feel the same way."

"I see." Odo knew that if he showed relief now, he would've been a goner. He had to leave the office as soon as possible. After an acceptable pause, he excused himseld; "That would be all."

"Dimsissed."

Dukat bobbed his head, and watched Odo turn around and leave. As soon as the door closed, his thoughts returned to Miss Kellis.

She was an extremely attractive woman. Had this been any other man but the Constable, the Prefect would have been certain he was feeling attracted to her. However, Odo was a changeling and had always seemed to carry a disdainful approach towards humanoid relations. And this was not the first time Odo had aksed him a question about them.

Putting that aside…

There was only one woman he loved(and Odo knew about it). Her name was Tora Naprem.

This was not the first time he had slept with another woman since his relationship with her had initiated. Each and every week, it could have been said Dukat cheated on Naprem. But he did not see it that way.

All of those women…they had never meant anything to him. Merely…for pleasure, as he had stated only moments ago. Just as the Intendant.

Yet every time before intiating one of such affairs, he couldn't help thinking about _her_. About how would she react if she ever found out.

The problem was, he knew how she would react. She would look at him with understanding, hold his hand and say how she understood, since they saw each other so rarely and since they couldn't afford any suspicion, how everything was all right and how he had nothing to worry about.

If he knew she'd be angry, she'd yell, she'd slap hem, if he knew she would scream at him, Dukat wouldn't have given that much thought each and every time before picking his next target.

But that…unspoiledness, caring, innocence, empathy of hers…it made him feel guilty for those few moments previous to affairs.

And that was how he knew he loved Naprem.


	6. Alone, Or Not Alone?

Chapter Five is here. People, I want reviews! Please, tell me how do you like my work.

**Chapter Five**

Isabel had not enjoyed spending the remainder of the two days in the Infirmary. She was not one of those weak-stomached people who were afraid, unnerved or made sick by hospitals. No, Isabel merely felt bored, lying around, doing nothing, without any company than Tevak, who was too busy to have a decent conversation with her anyway.

If that hadn't been the case, Isabel would have, even with a doctor, in spite of her extremely limited knowledge of medicine. She was one of those people who could talk about anything, wiggling out of situations were they were in darkness by use of words. In other words…she was capable of making herself look like an expert on matters where she was, to put it plainly, a dunce, merely by saying a thousand words that conveyed practically no message. As long as people surrounding her got the impression she knew what she was talking about, they did not find any wish or reason to doubt her.

After Odo had left, she had begun devising a plan for survival here. Unfortunately, none seemed good enough. Foremost, she tried using her imagination, a very powerful tool indeed. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. The moment she started imagining some brilliant plot, dashing intrigue, romantic scenery, she found herself yearning, her limbs itching to get up and try it all in real life. It did more bad than good; long gone were the times when she couldn't have brought all her fantasies into reality and when merely thinking could have satisfied her.

There were no noises in the Infirmary, save for Tevak walking from one computer console to the other in his officer. Isabel didn't know what brougth her more irriatation, the fact that she was hearing someone move while she couldn't at moments, or the fact that everything was so silent and boring it simply made her want to move.

Finally, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she simply was not tired, regardless all that had happened to her. Excitement and adrenaline never tired her. They had always brought her refreshing clearness. She was partially rescued when Quark passed by to bring her a drink. Tevek allowed it(after a very cross look from her as he'd opened his mouth to protest), since it was mere Spring Wine. Another quarter of the rescue came hand-in-hand with a transmission from Admiral Duane. It had been rerouted to the Infirmary from the Prefect's office(where she would have very much liked to climb) , but at least she was allowed to get up and sit in a chair before the computer. A few steps, but it surely felt better.

Duane was a man in his fifties, fifty-nine, actually, she believed. He had known her ever since she'd signed in with the diplomatic corps, and had always been very fond of her in a fatherly sort of way. The concern on his face had never been a pleasant sigh for her, not even in her mushier moods.

"Isabel. Gul Dukat has notified me about the accident. Are you--?"

"I'm fine, sir." Isabel interrupted him, rudely, she realized, but showing weaknesses in front of her mentor had always been uncomfortable for her. Not being fine was a sign of weakness to her, "Even though it hardly was an accident." She went on softer, "A Bajoran had attempted to murder Constable Odo."

Crossing over her impoliteness, Duane's look sharpened reasonably.

" Murder? I thought Dukat was overreacting…Cardassians often tend to let their eloquence get ahead of them." His brow furrowed, "Can you tell me what exactly he meant with 'appropriate punishment'?"

Isabel smirked slightly. For some reason, she especially liked the idea of herself being looked upon as someone who could interpret the Prefect's thoughts. And something within told her it had nothing to do with her usual vanity and enjoyment of superiority.

"Execution, of course."

Duane sighed. He'd often found himself appalled and scared by Isabel's cruelty…or simply indifference towards such methods as taking someone's life for a crime.

"You seem to support it. I am against it." He stopped, looking into her eyes deeply with his blue ones, "But I am not the one who got shot by that Bajoran."

The Admiral had so often sought excuses for her. Isabel had never seen any point in justifying herself. She did as she liked or as circumstances required. That was her own prerogative. What others thought of it…it mattered little. When she wished to impress someone, she did it_ without_ changing herself for them or hiding anything about her.

But Stephen Duane cared about her, and he was a Starfleet Officer who'd dedicated his whole life to Starfleet and the Federation in the same time. He had to seek for excuses to let her so openly step on protocols those two ordained. She understood that, and she let him do it.

"Precisely." However, they had a hidden policy. Whenever he would make such an excuse on her behalf, it meant he wished to gently steer off the current topic. Presently, executions. Isabel respected that.

"The only thing I currently mind is being forced to remain in the Infirmary for two days."

Complaining helped her; she often complained. Most thought she did it too much, but Duane had never minded it, even though he would warn her when she'd go overboard.

"I know how difficult that can get." Duane ran his hand through the rare head on his round head, "But the more you listen to the Doctor, the sooner you'll be able to leave."

"If I survive that long." She cut off sarcastically.

"Now that's what I call overreacting."

Even though Duane had said that casually, completely unrelated to any of his words before the change of subject, Isabel caught the back of her mind glowing slightly because he'd described Dukat with the same word then.

Soon, it went out of her head, though, since the said glow had been far more subconscious than conscious.

"That's what I call objectivity." She smiled quickly, "A joke, sir. I have to thank you for breaking the monotony partially…the Doctor actually let me get up to conduct this transmission."

Duane laughed.

"Always glad to help…Intendant. Unfortunately, I have to run now. Duty calls; Admiral Nechayev needs a full briefing."

"Huh!" Isabel waved her hand, "Be sure to send her my dis-regards. I swear, sometimes I believe that woman sleeps with protocols instead of her husband…"

"All right, all right, I get the point!" Duane was still grinning, "I'll do as you said. In return_, you_ get better soon."

"Yes, sir. And good luck."

After that, she had spent almost entire two days completely alone.

_Almost._

In the morning of the second(thankfully, the last) day, Gul Dukat entered the Infirmary.

Her first thought was how she still looked sleepy and ungroomed, and how naked that made her feel. The mere fact that she hadn't done her best to perfect her appearance gave her a strange vulnerability she hadn't been exposed to before. It took her a few seconds to recall he'd already _seen_ her sleeping face, and how she must have looked a million times more ungroomed when she had been dying in front of his eyes.

She was sure he hadn't spotted her brief uncertainity, or had mistaken it for something else. He certainly didn't showanything, in his perfect, black uniform, as he strutted towards her.

"Miss Kellis." He drawled, "I hope you are feeling better today."

She shot him with an ironic gaze.

"How would you feel in my position of a stranded person?" A chortle, "Other than that, fine."

"Ah, but I am also very often…stranded…in my office." He joked.

"But you don't have guards that forbid you to leave." Isabel's glance darted to Tevak's office.

"I am certain the Doctor has only your best interests in his mind." Teasing was spread all over him, "One way or another, I have come with good news."

"Oh?" Sitting up, she not once removed her eyes from his.

"Miss Kellis," Dukat's look went from teasing to seductive at an unexpected, incredible speed, leaving her completely worldless for a few moments. Luckily, she was not supposed to say anything.

_Dea would've congratulated him for being the only person that managed to shut me up._ Isabel recalled her best friend, and realized that the Prefect of Bajor truly was the only one who had succeed in such an impossible mission.

"I will tell you that you shall be let out of your…" He showed around with his hand, also not looking away, "Safe haven, a few hours earlier. At 17:00, actually, so you would be able to witness at 18:00 the execution of Tanal Lomarra…the Bajoran woman who had doomed you to this torture."

It had taken her tremendous efforts to keep her focus strong enough to be able to discern the words among the thrill that filled her. Not because of the fact she was leaving the Infirmary, but because Dukat had gotten dangerously close to her during his speech.

Their faces were only small inches apart, she saw, her hertbeat increasing. The hammering didn't help her concentration. Enchantedly, she stared into his eyes. _Go ahead, _She thought…no, ASKED…_Kiss me. Kiss me…__**Kiss me!**_

When their lips pressed against each other finally meeting, she closed her eyes, completely letting go to him. _I knew you couldn't resist me, I knew you wanted me…_The lines ravaged through her mind victoriously.

They pulled apart, and she couldn't help but feel dumbfounded at the same look of victory in Dukat's eyes. Soon, though, it turned into cause for even more triumph-he must have been feeling victorious because she had_ allowed_ him to kiss her, _returned _the kiss. How good that felt--

"That was an appropriate expression of thankfulness, Intendant. Although, I must admit, it did come as a surprise…"

What? The meaning unclear to her, Isabel scowled slightly. What was he talking about? It came as a surprise? She was showing she was thankful? Hadn't he..

And then it hit her like a lightning bolt out of a clear sky-_She had kissed him._

Nothing, not even the realizition that she had been dying, had ever caused that kind of shock tu erupt within her. It was like a volcano, and for a moment her jaw even dropped. She'd been lulled…deluded to believe he had been the one to make the first move, to near her and kiss her. Not deluded by him(that was the worst and the most petrifying part), but by _herself._ Because she'd wished it to be so.

_Naturally,_ her mind tried to look for reason within this, _naturally!I had wished for him to fall prey to my irresistable charm, as I always do…and it is also natural that the man makes the first step!_

Even if she had maybe convinced herself to that(and she had always been great at lying to herself…and others), there was no logical explanation she could have found for the fact that in the end she had fallen prey to his charm.

It left her completely frozen, her inside trapped in a hurricane.

_Perhaps it is a Cardassian…thing? Perhaps I find ALL Cardassians so magnetically attractive…_

But she hardly cared for Zolan and Tevak.

It took her a few seconds to finally let it go and decide not to bother with it at the moment(she easily dismissed things she found unpleasant to think of), but as soon as Dukat's face was again clear before her eyes, she saw plainly he had noticed it all. That he was aware of all that was happening within her mind. The feeling of nakedness crept back into her, and she angrily shook it off. The smug look on his face helped.

"Now you see how extremely revolting I find this enviroment."

Now it was turn for his jaw to drop slightly, even though he struggled to keep the grin still. Isabel produced one as well, big and satisfied. She quickly forgot about her former defeat and remained completely focused on her victory. A natural refelx she and all humanoids had in common. All wanted their mistakes or defeats to be forgotten, and to be remembered for their victories.

However, Dukat was humanoid as well…and her loss was his victory. He moved closer, leaning in so his mouth almost touched her ear. She jolted faintly. Had he uncovered a weakness within her…_himself?_

"If that brings me a kiss from you, Intendant…even though an _unaware _one…I shall gladly tell Doctor Tevak to keep doing his job the way he is."

Isabel pursed her lips at that whispered, but so gently that it merely represented her true state…bewitched. She fought a bloody battle with her eyes to prevent them from closing, with her tongue to prevent it for asking for more.

Her victory was like that of Pyrus.

In a way, she had succeded in her mission. But her tongue couldn't have been stopped from producing a sound. Dukat was the only person that had managed that…the statement included herself.

So, instead of greeting him, saying goodbye, she asked, again stupefied by her own words;

"May I know what will you be doing _after_ the execution, Prefect?"

She sounded so casually seductive without even thinking. Dukat moved away, roguery plastered on his face. Her shock subsided quickly; she knew he was going to accept. It brought unexpected relish.

Keeping her roasting, he appeared to ponder. Huh! As if that was going to work…

However, it worked. Her eyes widening, Isabel felt her heart beginning to hammer nervously. Come on! She knew…it was plain fact…that he was going to say yes, that she should come to his quarters. He was merely putting up an act now…

What was going on with her? Perhaps a side-effect of the damned mushiness?

"I believe…" Dukat initiated slowly, still 'pondering', "That I might just say…"

_Hurry up! Come on! __**Say**__ it!_

"My quarters…or yours?"

Now, as she lied on the biobed, Isabel shook her head. Who was she deluding? She had not been _almost not alone. _

It felt as if she had never been so _not alone_ in her entire life.


	7. What Have You Done To Me?

Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

The Promenade was unusually silent. The only audible thing was the murmur that spread through the mob of Bajorans on the Bajoran side, which was, as usually separated carefully from the other, 'civilized' part by both a strong fence and a line of guards. None of them made the effort to hide the sight from them, though. The whole point of public executions was for people to see someone die, to see an example made.

Gul Dukat often made examples. Not that he was the only one…but he was the favorite target of the Bajoran underground, being the Prefect. The mere number of people executed for an assassination attempt on him was enough to set a record. Needless to mention all the other Bajorans that commited various offenses on his station.

He said he saw it as necessary keeping of discipline. Isabel thought that anyone scorning him for that was out of their right mind. Was it perhaps not working? Was Terok Nor not perfectly safe? Did the Bajorans not know where their place was? And if someone did dare make a bolder strike…a bolder move(any strike at all), this was how they ended up. It pretty much kept everything swift.

The execution of Tanal Lomarra was going to be her first event of such kind here on Terok Nor. Funny, that she was also directly involved with it. More than directly…the Bajoran was actually being executed for an attack on her. And Odo, of course.

The Intendant had been released from the Infirmary(at her everlasting relief) an hour prior to the execution, which she had used in order to dress into her uniform(tight, shiny black dress, black heels) and put on her usual amount of make-up(eyeliner, mascara, lipstick). And put her hair in a bun. As she stepped on the Promenade, both the Bajorans and the Cardassians glanced at her for a few seconds. She turned heads, one could've said.

Currently, there was only one she really wanted to turn(the others were somewhat of a welcome addition) and that head wasn't on the Promenade yet.

Grimacing enigmatically, Isabel headed closer to what appeared like the first line; the closest to the upper level, where Tanal Lomarra was standing.

The Bajoran was turned with her back to her, but Isabel knew right away they had caught the right one. She glared at the blond hair with contempt. This was the person that had almost rid her of everything, every experience she was going to feel on her skin from now on. Had none of it happened, it would've been Tanal's fault.

Furthermore, Tanal Lomarra had exposed her to one thing she distasted extremely, one thing she even dared admit to herself she feared of; public display of weaknesses. Yes, some had a problem with public displays of affection. But weaknesses were what bothered her. In the Security Office, she knew she'd appeared weak, wounded, vulnerable…dying.

For that, she could never forgive the Bajoran.

All of a sudden, all sound was gone, as if vacuumed, from the Promenade. Moderately deep in her thoughts, Isabel only noticed why a few seconds after the others.

Dukat had stepped onto the upper level, where Tanal was standing. Behind him emerged Odo, who was, she noticed, looking rather grim. Why, of course. He had said he disliked executions as a manner of punishments…and he had hoped she'd be able to cut down the rates of executed people. What irony, again, that exactly she and him had been the ones causing this…in a way.

The Prefect came closer to Lomarra, but again he was at a safe distance. She noticed Odo staring at the Bajoran with tension, as if expecting for her to begin throwing knives. _Good, Odo. _Had she been holding a glass, she would've certainly raised it to him.

"Today, we've gathered here," Dukat began his speech, and Isabel noticed that he carried around some…noticeability, to call it so. His voice was so strong one couldn't have missed it, just as his figure was so impressing no one could've overseen it. _Charisma, charisma. _She thought, and continued to listen attentively, "To see what happens when a Bajoran commits an act of violence against her protectors. Tanal Lomarra…will serve as an example to the rest of you, as she shall be delivered a death penalty for attempted murder of Constable Odo and Intendand Isabel Kellis. If anyone tries anything similar, now they can see what faith shall await them. Observe carefully."

He stepped back, nodding his head at Odo, who did the same at the firing squad. Then, one officer moved forward and pushed Tanal to the ground, where she knelt.

Isabel couldn't have seen the fear in the Bajoran's eyes as the shots from disruptor rifles ended her life. But she heard the scream. One, terrifying, agonozing scream, full of fear and even…begging? No wonder…a seventeen-year-old girl, she would have had an entire life ahead of her. Had she not been stupid.

And that was where Isabel's thoughts of Tanal Lomarra ended.

As the Promenade began to clear up, and the guards took away the body,the Intendant remained standing, her eyes searching for Dukat's. They met, and he inclined his head in a greeting, smiling. Isabel equaled that, her eyes bedazzling at the implication of what was to occur later…only a few moments later, perhaps.

Dukat understood the message and grinned with all the mischief he could've gathered. Isabel felt her heratbeat increasing, and stared at him for a few more seconds before spinning around in a seductive twirl and heading towards his quarters.

'_Last time it was mine…now it should be yours.'_

She'd proposed to him in the morning.

Last time…again excitement came to her. Was the same thing going to happen today as it had the last time?

There were some of the more reasonable parts of her brain that opposed that fiercely. She had never once slept with a man she hadn't been serious about, as she'd already thought, up to now. She was no whore. Was she going to do it again now?

Was she going to turn into a whore just to get that one part of Dukat she could?

No answer was needed-just the wheeze of the door as she stepped over the doorstep of the Prefect's quarters.

"Oh, Intendant!" Dukat collapsed next to her onto the mattress of his bed, letting out a long breath, "I have to say…I really like the way our relationship is heading."

Moaning, Isabel turned to face him, closing her eyes. She was still worldless…Dukat, she had by now grasped, left that kind of effect on her…he left her mind in too big a turmoil to be capable of forming something as complicated as words.

Thoughts, however, more of images from near past, displayed themselves for her more easily.

They hadn't even had a drink or dinner this time. This time, it had evolved even faster than the last time…a lot faster. After she'd refused _kanar,_ they had talked for a while…about executions, Bajorans, everything…There was always something they found they could share opinions about. They simply never ran ouf topics.

Not until he touched her.

He had gotten up, as he'd finally persuaded her to at least try some Bajoran Spring Wine. During that time, he'd left her pondering.

Isabel had felt uneasy since she'd entered. Not because she didn't like his company…oh, no, far from it. Precisely because she liked it _too much. _Enough to sleep with him after only knowing him for two days. For the second time. And even then, she had been sure it would end up like that.

That uneasiness had begun to transform into anger. They had already been talking for an hour. And she was still here, even though hse had had so many chances to escape, to excuese herself, go away…but she hadn't. Instead, she had struggled(even though it came naturally to her) to find more and more topics for them to talk about.

She was angry and annoyed, irritated by herself and her lullability…or whatever this was! The fact she was acting like an obedient little whore…_He had her hooked._

_How I hate you for that, Dukat! _She had thought then.

And just at that very moment, he came up behind her.

His fingers landed on her shoulders gently but firmly, soon followed by his head that leaned there. A shudder of ecstasy rushing through her, the Intendant was again angry with herself. Because she'd ever thought of hating him. Had she been crazy? How could she hate someone with such a magical touch, such an entrancing scent…

As his lips found their way to her neck, and soon to her own lips, she found herself once again at his command…ready to do anything he wanted her to do.

Sensing her speech coming back to her, she let go of the memories, smiling. Now, she was certainly feeling as if in seventh heaven or above. But that feeling was slowly fading away, as her breath came to a normal rate from panting. A beaten emotion crept into her.

_How could I have done this? Again? Why did I do it? What does he think of me now? He must think me a very easy woman…_

With a snort, she shook her head. There she was, whoring herself to this man, yet the only thing she was capable of worrying about was what how that affected his opinion of her. How silly…she was acting exactly like a schoolgirl….

Dukat had noticed her, no matter how slight, change of disposition, and averted his eyes back to hers.

"Is something wrong?"

Isabel was quite thankful to him for interrupting her stream of thoughts right now. Focusing every bit of her brain on answering that question(which was difficult, because it could've again led to the subject it had helped her avoid), Isabel tried to shake off the feeling of awareness that her subconsciousness had finished the 'schoolgirl', sentence with the appropriate two words.

"Nothing." She purred, "Not at all."

"Good." He winked at her, "Because I've never had any complaints before."

"Oh-hoh!" Isabel chuckled, rolling closer to him and landing in his arms, "And you won't…not if you keep it up like this." Over her shoulder, she kissed him, and he returned the kiss gladly.

"Do you know what the first thing on my mind was when you entered my office?" Dukat asked, still holding her.

That seemed such a long time ago. She found it hard to believe only three days had passed since then. No wonder, with all the happenings.

"Hmm…let me guess…" She opened her mouth playfully, musing, "How I looked without my clothes on?" Her voice carried an amused certainity.

"That's right." His eyebrows craned over his eyes, more laughter coming from her, "You indeed are a talented woman even for guessing, Intendant."

"Because I could've felt you undressing me with your eyes, Prefect." Isabel beamed.

"This brings up a point…" She stared into his eyes intently, "When will we cross to the first name basis?"

Now it was his turn to chortle loudly.

"You don't even know my first name, my dear…Isabel."

"I would if you told me." Oh, dear Lord. She truly had come to sleeping with a man whose first name she didn't know.

"Mhmmm…" Dukat pondered, "I think I shall simply let you call me Dukat for the time being."

"That's not fair." Isabel pouted mockingly, "But I can work with it." She added quickly right away at the teasing frown on his face.

"Believe me, Isabel…if there's one part of me I want you to work with, it is not my name."

"I know…since I am a professional with all the other parts…" Isabel grinned boldly.

They both laughed, and didn't stop for a few minutes. When they finally lay peacefully next to each other, more serious matters came to her mind.

This time, she chose not to avoud thinking about the, since she had already devoted that too much of her overall attention. Instead, she brought them straight out.

'_Dukat…might I know what is the real status of our relationship?'_

The question she'd wanted to ask him since their last encounter.

Yes, she had given this a lot of thought. To ask or not to ask? She had sought for millions of reasons for her reluctance to choose the former option, from her pride to her unwillingness to show there was something she didn't understand. But no matter how much she denied it, the true reason lied deep within her heart, and was called…

_Fear._

Fear automatically overrode the other word that would've been used originally, and that would've brought a lot of confusion.

Fear…the worst enemy of all. Fear, a symbol of humiliation for her.

And she was ready to go as far as admitting it to herself…admitting that she was afraid of losing _him._

Just to conceal that one word.

One.

Word.

_Oh, Dukat, what have you done to me? _She thought, _What have you done to me, when I'd sooner claim the title of the coward than admit I love you?_

The thought, finally out, drifted freely around her head for a few seconds, before slowly sinking into the upcoming dreams, getting lost in their hurricane.


	8. Surprises, Marionettes & Love

Chapter Seven. Please,** rate and review. I want to hear more of your opinions! **

**Chapter Seven**

"I disagree."

The Intendant's eyes flew crossly over the face of the Bajoran man standing before her. This was it. Collaborator or not, this one was going to hear from her.

He was a handsome man, even though for some reason Isabel couldn't find Bajorans sexually attractive. Maybe because of her attachment to the Cardassians…which gave her a subjective point of view of the whole situation. The Bajorans had not enough style, power or grace to catch the eye of the Intendant.

His name was Tar Jalo. He was a man in his fifties, with a moderately tanned face covered in various crevices and age lines, which made him look even older, but also gave him that aura of the power she knew he did not possess, so she paid little attention to it. His hair was brown, his eyes brown, and he was tall with a muscular frame. Even though his appearance might've been called intimidating, especially with a frown plastered upon his face, it hadn't scared her. Isabel had long ago learned not to ever let herself be intimidated by the physics of any man. A mere sound from her, and he would be overhwelmed by security.

Not that she ever even thought he would attack her. He was stubborn, self-righteous, BUT with a good eye and an instinct for his own well-being.

And currently, most importantly, he was opposing her.

Which was why he was right away sorted into her bad books.

Isabel could stand people having different opinions from her, even standing up to her if they were _in the position to do it. _When Admiral Duane opposed her, it was all right. When Captain Picard opposed her, it was all right. When Dukat opposed her…

But when this Bajoran, who was alive solely because he had(in spite of the undoubted smartness of that move) betrayed his brethren and seperated himself from them, ready to sell his home, dared oppose her and ask that she changed her decision because of that…that was what she called crossing the line.

Especially with the new kind of power she had gained on this station lately.

After her second time with Dukat, no more questions or doubts came from either of them. They carried on with their duties normally, she inspecting the station, he commanding it, and whenver they'd get an opportunity to talk to each other, they would arrange another meeting. So the second time was soon followed by the third, the fourth, the fifth and carried on to the point where she stopped counting. It was uselsess keeping track of something that could(and she often unconsciously and sometimes secretly hoped it would)go on infinitely.

Dukat treated her like a queen. Every day, upon returning to her(or sometimes his) quarters, she'd be greeted by a present, a surprise, which varied from a dress with a lovely decorative paper to an invitation to a ride with his personal shuttle to Bajor. Sometimes, those presents would be so amazing they would leave even her breathless. Like, for example, their very fifth time, when she had come into her quarters only to find a padd with a transmission ready to intiate. Without thinking, she pressed the button, just about to turn around for a gift from Dukat.

By the time she finished the turn, though, her quarters weren't there anymore.

Isabel was located in a room, a room with a table set up for two, overlooking a lake. The Sun was slowly setting over it, and it didn't take her long to realize this was a holographic recreation of Earth.

And a perfect one. Not good, not very good, but perfect. Every little detail was right at its place; had she been taken unaware, it could have fooled her. That was an extremely high praise coming from her, considering it even admitted a flaw(no matter how slight) on her side.

Even the dress she wore-the short red one she'd worn to her first dinner with Dukat-fit in completely. As soon as her eyes landed on the dress, she knew that she'd found the gift. This_ was_ the gift. Not the dress, but the entire breathtaking scenery. The hills, the trees, the lake, the Sun…

Mesmerized by it all, blinking and hardly surpressing a smile of joy, Isabel hadn't heard steps coming from behind her until a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and until Dukat's head was on her shoulders, his lips murmuring into her ear; "Is it to the lady's liking or shall I have it changed?"

All of this, the respect, the attention, the admiration, the mere fun, even a slight level of subservience appropriate from a man to a woman, was what acted as fuel to Isabel's increasing self-assurance on Terok Nor.

"Whoever disobeys or disrespects you shall answer to me." Dukat once said to her between kisses in his bed.

That was a true statement, and in spite of the way it sounded, there was no remote incredibility hidden within it. Their relationship was among things widely known and recognized on the station, yet a tabu topic; not to be mentioned out loud. Everybody knew and bore with it silently…how could they not? And as soon as they knew of the existence of their relationship, they knew better than to trifle with Isabel. Even Zolan, although with disdain, treated her plausibly.

After three weeks, their rendezvous' became more and more frequent. Now, a month since her arrival to Terok Nor, they met on a nearly daily basis. Each and every time, Isabel would be reminded over and over of her power over the other people inhabiting the station. She liked to think she had power over Dukat, she really did. But as hard as she tried, not even she, a master at self-deceiving, was able to avoid something so plain in sight-Dukat was the one that had the power over her.

Whatever he said, whatever he asked, she had to agree. Before the actual event, she would perhaps be able to think she was to say no. As soon as he spoke, though, as soon as he looked at her with that intense gaze, those sharp, deep eyes, touch her…she would turn into his slave.

It was something she both loved and hated to think about. Just as she loved and hated him.

One way or another, no one else had any sort of power over her here. That helped, for it led her to take out the frustration at being Dukat's puppet on the others by being strict, fierce and shrewd even more than her usual. If she could not say no to him, then she could certainly forbid anyone else to say no to her.

Especially this Bajoran.

Early in the morning, Tar Jalo had come to her and asked for consideration on a matter concerning his fiancee. Hina Lami had been arrested under the accusations of attempted robbery from a Cardassian diplomat visiting the station.

"I will admit that Lami is guilty…she had been entranced by the money she could've gained…"

Yes, yes, of course she remembered it. There had been no need for him to explain anything at all. Isabel herself had ordered the arrest of Hina Lami upon seeing her rushing away into her fiancee's shop with Ambassador Temer's golden chain in her hands. _Naturally _she had been entranced by the money. Thieves usually were. One way or another, as she said to Tar, she was guilty and to be punished.

It was then when the Bajoran became overly persistent.

"I ask you to reconsider, Intendant. Lami is but a young woman, far younger than myself, and whatever she had done, it can all be blamed on her innocence and the fact that she is so naïve--"

Isabel told him she was not going to reconsider, but Tar insisted he came by in the afternoon and gave her time to think. Annoyed, she agreed simply to get rid of him.

And now there he was. He had come back, as promised, and wished to hear of what she had to say. Leaning back in her chair comfortably, her legs crossed, Isabel once again explained to him that whatever her reasons were, they were not strong enough to justify stealing, and even if they were, Cardassian law would not have recognized them.

"So, she shall be taken to the penal colony in the Rakantha province, as you have already been informed."

At that point, he stated how he disagreed, and even stepped closer to her in a demonstration of his deremination.

Proud beyond reason, as always, Isabel would sooner have died than let him walk out of her office without a punishment of some, any sort. How dared he! He had to learn his place, for he had obviously begun to give his importance much more credit than it deserved. She would be damned if she let him get away with it.

Collaborators…she had learned one thing of them. They were the smarter Bajorans, but also with a strong sense of self-preservation, which meant they would have betrayed_ anyone _as soon as a change of power came.

She never felt like showing them too much respect beacause of that.

Not bothering to get up, she leaned in, looking straight into his eyes. His gaze did not falter yet, but it had indications of softening. Letting a few silent seconds pass, she finally spoke, her voice enveloped in ice;

"Tar. I honestly don't know who do you think you are. Who knows, perhaps you deem yourself to have some importance. Perhaps you _are c_onsidered something among your kind of people, but that's where it _stops. _To the rest of us, you are nothing but a puny Bajoran who only had a little more mind than the rest of his comrades and chose to align himself with the current authorities. Now, I could go to great lengths to explain to you why and how I will not let your precious fiancee go, but it is neither your place nor within your capabilities to understand that. There is only one thing you must understand…" Here she raised slightly, straigtening, and went on with an iron certainity, "_Not_ to question my decisions _ever_ again."

The way she had articulated every word carefully must have been what finally made Tar look away. Satisfied, relishing in yet another victory(and trying her hardest to get out of her head the images of herself bowing to Dukat) , she hardly paid any attention to the rest of his words.

"I thought you were here to help Bajorans". He muttered defeatedly.

"You are not supposed to think." She said cleanly, about to motion at the door. But it proved unnecessary, for Tar had realized he had overstayed his welcome. Angry and helpless, he flashed her one last glare before disappearing out the door, nearly bumping into Constable Odo.

The latter was carrying a report, doubtless that of the daily criminal activities. She and Dukat received each a copy of it at the end of the day. Odo always delivered it on time, and that precision was something she liked about the shape-shifter.

With a smile, still triumphant, she nodded at him;

"Constable. Has it been a busy day?"

"Actually, no." Odo said, handing her the padd, "Althought it seems yours surely has. Who was that?"

"Nobody." She literally meant it as her eyes danced over the report. Nothing serious, two minor robberies, a case of smuggling(Quark-nothing proved, as usually) and five arrests for disturbing the peace on the Promenade.

"Just a Bajoran who tried questioning my decisions." She returned the report to Odo, who had been strangely focused on a spot on the wall behind her during the silence. Isabel had noticed strange behavior from him lately. He must have taken her initial warning too seriously. Oh, well, that was not much to concern herself with. It was going to change eventually, and if not…

"Ah. And you have, of course, showed him how…" His expression bordered with cynical, "…unwise that is."

"Naturally." Isabel grinned, "You are a quick learner, Constable…it had taken you less than half the time to realize that."

"I am sure I should be flattered." Odo titled his head, scowling slightly. He was being too stupid. All the things he had laughed at and depised in humanoids, he had come to doing himself. Each and every day, the highlight of it would be carrying the daily report to Intendant Kellis' office, leading a short conversation with her about their day.

Yes, his attraction had not faded. As a matter of fact, he was certain it had even increased. Oh, he was very angry with himself because of that. But he was very far from being able to help it.

The best he could do was not show what he felt to anyone. Which was also pretty difficult, considering the fact she was sleeping with the Prefect. Odo managed to restrain himself thanks to the introvert ways he had been developing ever since his earliest days as a sentient being. But he would never say it was easy. It would have been outright lying.

Whenever Dukat would mention her to him, Odo would feel like exploding. Every time he would say her name, or her rank, that enigmatic 'Miss Kellis' or 'Intendant' followed by a mysterious smirk, Odo would be offered a full scale of pictures of him in bed with her. It was almost as telling him openly.

There was no way of stopping that or trying to prevent it without appearing suspicious. So Odo resorted to deperate measures for consolation.

The Intendant would never like…or love him. That much he knew for sure. But at least, at least she did not love Dukat and Dukat did not love her. They only carried on with their…meetings…for pure pleasure. It was sex, not love. The only woman Dukat loved was his mistress Naprem.

And for no apparent reason to him, that made him feel slightly better. Maybe because it left some open space for hope, no matter how tiny, to drift within him? He chose not to go further into details on it, for whatever it was, his infallible logic would have certainly denied it sooner or later.

"If that would be all, Constable…"

What? Already? In spite of his better judgment, Odo flinched. Miss Kellis was a very talkative person, and she always talked to him much more and much longer than this-a few lines. The only exceptions he had noticed had been the times when she was in a_ visibly_ bad mood(now the evident opposite was happening before his very eyes) or when she had an appointment with the Prefect later on.

He had to say he preferred the former.

Now, though, he knew the latter was at hand. Because she was in a visibly _good mood._

"Yes…of course." He nodded his head hesitantly, trying to block the images of Isabel with Dukat, "I will take my leave, then."

"Good." Her tone was friendly, but hurried. Barely preventing a frown, the Constable turned around and left the office.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

"Had a lousy day, Odo?"

Quark leaned against the bar in his usual way, his head cocked and his eyes focusing sharply on the Constable, who was standing next to the bar and eying the rest of the establishment.

There were plenty of things Odo despised about Quark, and among the foremost was his unexplainable and unerring ability to guess things. His _luck. _His observancy, even. When he had an enemy, Odo preferred for the enemy to know as little about him as possible. So observant enemies were nothing but trouble. Quark's constant avoiding of justice and law was a certain reminder of that.

The moment Odo had become Chief of Security on Terok Nor, he had felt that the Ferengi was going to be very troublesome. It was common to his species, not just one specimen. Ferengi businessmen…treacherous, lying and scheming. Odo would have with outmost pleasure thrown Quark out the nearest airlock. However, he served justice, and he had to find reason to do such a thing.

It was what had served as his relentless occupation for the last two years.

Even when he knew the Ferengi had done something, he would have no proof, and when he would approach the proof, when he would think he finally had the little creature in his grasp, Quark would somehow miraculously come up with an explanation, or the said proof would misteriously disappear. The matter was not important enough to bring to the Prefect's attention, yet it tortured Odo around-the-clock.

The least he could do was to make it as hard for Quark as possible, if not arresting him. So he paid very much attention to the establishment he ran, _Quark's._

Unfortunately, that would often lead to situations such as this one.

Odo had no intention of letting Quark in on his most private or any feelings. He was certain the Ferengi would never forget them, and sooner or later use them to incriminate him. Besides, he felt uncomfortable with sharing anything about himself with anyone. Only grazing Quark with his eyes, he looked back at the Cardassian officers playing dabo at the nearby tables.

"I have had a perfectly good day, if seeing you is counted out of the overall."

"Ghah!" Quark waved his hand impatiently, "Always the cold tone, always the irony in your voice, always the detest. But today…" He moved closer, "Today there's also _bitternes_." Quark tapped his ears, "You cannot fool these, Odo!"

_Curse his lobes,_ Odo thought as he let out a long sigh. Too bad he was right.

"Quark, even if I am bitter, which I am NOT, I don't see how that is any of _your _business."

"But it is." The Ferengi grinned, "You are a customer in my bar right now, like it or not, Constable. And as every good bartender…I tend to my customers and it's my job to make them feel better…even if they're uptight shape-shifters like you."

Odo ignored the mockery, pressing his lips into a thin line and trying to shift his attention to something, _anything _else.

"Well, well, look at this." He scarcely believed his luck when Quark seemed to have noticed something else. However, as soon as his eyes instinctively flew in the same direction as the Ferengi's, he took that back and regretted.

Isabel Kellis was walking down the Promenade, heading towards the turbolift. She was wearing her uniform dress, her hair was falling freely down her shoulders with a decorative black rose placed within it. Odo felt a percipitant yearning for humanoid sense, to be able to smell that hair, taste--

He stopped that stream of thoughts before it advanced any further, forcing himself to look away from the beautiful woman.

Haplessly, his eyes met Quark's and he saw that the Ferengi had been watching him for the entire time.

And the look in those sharp Ferengi pools told him that he had been uncovered.

Since there was very little he could do, he clung to the last hope; he looked at the dabo tables again, trying to ignore Quark's persistent gaze.

However, it hadn't worked.

Quark opened his mouth to say something, but Odo jolted, stopping him from it and signalling him clearly with a dangerous glare to be silent.

The Ferengi raised his hands, giving up, but only partially.

"No one will hear a word from me, I_ promise_." For what that's worth, "But really, Odo…you should know…you DO know…she's with the--"

"I know." Odo cut in freezingly, "I know."

"Oh." Quark was slightly taken aback by the helplesness he had felt in the second 'I know'. "So…what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing." Odo now gave Quark his full attention, "Nothing. And neither will you." He lowered his voice, "Or I swear to God, Quark, I'll toss you out the neraest airlock with or without legal justification or proof."

The edge of frost in the Constable's voice made Quark draw back completely, nodding his head. Somehow, he had a feeling Odo would bring his threat to life….

If he told anyone that Odo was in love with Intendant Kellis.


	9. Accusations

Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"So you really must go to Bajor?"

Isabel sprawled on the sofa, where she was lying, dressed again in her uniform dress. Her feet were bare, and her hair was cascading freely down her slim shoulders. She was a sight, at least for Dukat, who stared down at her appreciatively as her head rested on his lap.

"Unfortunately, it is not among those trips that can be delayed." He wanted to add 'as much as I would like that', but refrained from it. Isabel had never asked too many questions, she had never requested to know things he didn't mention. Which _was perfect_, in his opinion. Among the women he had been with, there had been plenty who soon started to look upon his other affairs with a certain dose of jealousy. Who expected him to give them all of his time, even his heart. The Intendant understood perfectly that their relationship had nothing to do with anything remotely simillar to love.

The woman he _loved _was the one he would be visiting on Bajor tomorrow.

Dukat hadn't seen Naprem in three months…just as their daughter, Ziyal. She was a few weeks from her thirteenth birthday. He was going to have to get her a gift in advance, since he doubted he could be there at the exact day.

He looked at Isabel again, and couldn't help but noticed how much she differed from Naprem. Naprem, good, kind, caring, soft, gentle…and Isabel, fierce-tempered, fiery, fiesty, extrovert, seductive, yet nice. A leader, also, with that natural ability of commanding.

Isabel was so much like himself.

Opposites were said to attract, though, didn't they?

And he knew Naprem for a longer time, a far longer time…and he had never stopped loving her during the last twelve years. It was not possible that it could happen because of Isabel--

He nearly bolted, appalled by his own stream of thoughts. What the hell was he thinking about? _Of course_ he was not going to stop loving Naprem because of Isabel. Isabel was just an infatuation, a mistress. He felt absolutely nothing for her. If he could have brought Naprem to the station, he would have gotten rid of _her _right away.

Shaking his head, he ran his hand through Isabel's raven hair. Why was he bothering to even think about that?

It was one thing he was certain of; he would never leave Naprem for another woman. Perhaps he might have been forced to sleep with others, but his heart always belonged to her.

And it always was going to.

Isabel looked up at him, wondering what business he could possibly have on Bajor. Even though she did not make a single move to lead him on that that was the state of things, Isabel was so often tortured by jealousy.

She, too, tried to tell herself that their relationship was more of a business one than anything close to love. Mostly, she succeded…but whenever she would begin to lose the battle with her mind, one thing would serve as her ace up the sleeve…she would tell herself that even if she began to feel anything, he never would.

It was something she could see in his eyes each and every time she would look at him. That she was not one with the key to the strings of his heart.

It pained her, as unwilling as she was to admit it, but that pain(she claimed didn't exist) helped her get back on track. If he felt nothing for her, who was he that she would feel anything for him?

Shaking off such ponderings now, she looked up at him, licking her lips tenderly. It reached the effect she had hoped for; Dukat leaned in and kissed her passionately. Letting him explore her mouth wit his tongue, Isabel couldn't remained focused, and let down her guard once again.

_God, I must never let him know how jealous I am…how I'd like to keep him here and never let him go. If he finds out, I might lose him._

She had to make do with what she got. And all she could get was this.

So she might as well stick to it.

While it lasted.

"The Prefect has left?"

It was the first thing Isabel asked Odo as she entered the Security Office.

The Constable nodded his head, regarding the Intendant very carefully.

Dukat had told him she knew nothing of Tora Naprem. Yet there was something on her, about her…her face, her eyes…that made him believe she did know. Perhaps not about Naprem personally, but she certainly doubted. He didn't like it…not because he cared about Dukat's relationships, but because what he saw on Isabel seemed to edge with true jealousy, as well-hidden as it was.

And you were only jealous when you cared about someone.

'Even if the Intendant knew, she would not care, Odo.', Dukat had told him, 'She would perhaps be slightly jealous, but it would represent no problem for her.'

That was consistent with what he was seeing. Again letting go of the matter, only not to find something to cause suspicion within him, he did so with the sealing thought that the Intendant was experiencing what Dukat had said she would.

"Glinn Denad has requested a meeting with you and me." Odo moved over to the computer, "He believes there is a presence of a Bajoran exremist group on the station." Otherwise, the matter would have been brought to the Prefect, but since he was away…

The last line was what Odo might have said, was he not so reluctant to mention Dukat around Isabel.

"Extremists?" Isabel's brow arched, "The Resitance?"

"No." The voice came from behind her, and she spun around to see Glinn Denad, Odo's deputy, a relatively short and bulky Cardassian, standing at the door, "They are called the Kohn-Ma, and are extremely dangerous." He stepped closer, huis eyes burying into Isabel's, "Their specialty are extremely effective assassinations."

Isabel was fully aware of his implications. They often came from nearly all personnel of Terok Nor. This matter was supposed to specially interest her because if aynone was the perfect target for assassination attempts, it was Dukat.

But she was not about to draw back. Returning Denad's glare, she spoke;  
"It is very fortunate that the Prefect is away from the station, then."

The Cardassian nodded, and Isabel thanked herself for her ability to adapt to any situation. She watched Denad move over to the desk, where he took a seat. Odo stood still, without saying a word until his deputy began speaking again. Isabel suddenly gt the impression that he was feeling uncomfortable for some reason.

But that would have made no sense. Odo _had _no reason.

Refusing the Constable's offer to sit down next to Denad, she remained on her feet, following his briefing.

"A contact I have in the Bajoran resistance reported to me that this group has recently sent some of their representatives to the station. Unfortunately, he was unable to provide me with the details concerning ther identities."

'Unable…or unwilling?' Isabel refrained from saying that. Cardassians knew how to succesfully and surprisingly quiclky remove the unwilling part from the game.

"We should increase security, and forbid any Bajoran to leave the station, collaborator or not." She addressed Odo, "It is rather easy to _pose_ as a collaborator." That was completely logical to her. The Constable seemed to agree.

"Of course. The entire station should also more often be searched for explosives of all kind." His eyes lowered to Denad, "Those are the Konh-Ma's most frequently used tools, aren't they?"

"Yes." Denad bobbed his head, resentful towards the fact they had omitted him from most of the decision making, "But they are also keen on disruptor attacks, rifles, anything that is quick and efficent."

"Well, make sure there are no armed Bajorans running around, then." Isabel was about to leave the office, annoyed by Denad's attitude and unwilling to tolerate it any further. However, just as she faced the door, Odo's voice halted her from behind.

"It would be wise for you to have an escort accompanying you around as well, Intendant."

Isabel was about to protest(she had already opened her mouth), when, after spinning around, she noticed the look in his eye.

It was not a look. More of a scowl. Something far away from Odo's ordinary emotionless gaze. And it had served the purpose he had doubtlessly wanted it to serve; it warned her of something that was not to be uttered in Denad's presence.

So, instead of shaking her head and refusing, she nodded slowly, as the realization settled in.

"Yes. You can send the guards to my office."

As she was leaving, walking down the Promenade, her thoughts returned to the reason of her sudden change of heart.

What Odo had warned her of was the fact that she was not safe with a Bajoran terrorist group on the station. In spite of the fact she was a Federation liasion. Even though she was here to 'help the Bajorans'.

And this meant that her relationship with Dukat had become even more public than she had ever believed it could.

There was no way she minded that. All of her powers of self-delusion were not nearly enough to make her believe she did(not that she had stopped trying forever). But what bothered her was, firstly, that she had not _noticed it._

Isabel Kellis had always been observant. She had always been the one to notice that detail that no one else seemed to be able to see or grasp, and she'd always sorted it among her most valued abilities. It had certainly been of great use to her. Actually, there were a number of tight spots she wouldn't have slid through with such ease had there not been for it.

What she distinctively excelled at was discerning what people thought of her.

Now she had failed at that…it constantly bit on her pride and she found it unbearable. Really, she knew that the people on Terok Nor were aware that she was sleeping with Dukat, but the Bajoran underground? The Bajorans at all(counting out the collaborators)? Where had her eyes been if she had missed that?

_On Dukat_. Answering led her to the second, and the more important reason(even though she refused to admit it, once again…) for her inner torture.

Had she been so _obvious_?

She, who had always been the perfect actress, able to make anyone receive any image of her at all. Who had always been so good at hiding things she wanted to remain hidden…and lying generally! The great deciever, Dea had once nubbed her.

Had she kept her eyes on him for that one second longer than appropriate? Had she let the emotion within them sparkle more freely than her usual?

No! She couldn't have! Upon storming into her office, she kicked the desk with both her leg and her fist as hard as possible. No! No man could make her do that! Especially not one that kept her as a mistress only…for pleasure only.

_Oh, dear Lord, how I hate you!_ At this point, she did not care whether the Bajorans planted a bomb under her bed or not, whether they killed her, tortured her or let her live.

What she cared about, or who, more exactly, was Dukat.

And that was a problem bigger than a million Occupations Of Bajor.

Dea Leighton Stafford contacted her the following morning.

Isabel had been best friends with her since they were both fourteen. They had, surprisingly, never been simillar, yet their friendship had endured more than any other they had both ever had. Most likely because they each came in handy to each other, offering an opposite view of the world and an objective evaluation of a situation. Their varying opinions had also caused plenty of fights, some more serious than the others, but they had lived through it.

Even their looks were completely different. Unlike Isabel, Dea was fair-haired, with straight, blond locks falling down her head and reaching her shoulders, a regular, oval face and sky-blue eyes. She was a different kind of beauty from Isabel. Maybe not more beautiful, but men had mostly found her more accessible. Isabel had that strong streak within her, that proud composure that made some nearly fear her. She considered that to be good; that way only brave men approached her. And she would have had no others.

When they had been younger, Isabel had used to be jealous of Dea's success with men. Now, the situation had turned. Not that Dea had stopped being beautiful or popular. On the contrary; she had married Matthew Stafford, her highschool sweetheart, five years ago. They already had two children, Leonarda and Mark. She was more than faithful to her husband, and that(as rotten as it sounded) gave Isabel a certain dose of content; now she was the one with more guys on her list.

An example of how their differences weren't always positive.

Dea had never had a temper such as Isabel's. It took a lot of time to anger and truly offend her. That was why she had not mind the excruciatingly long wait from her actual intiation of the transmission to the moment when Isabel finally got over to her screen.

"I'm sorry." She apologized right away, "But I was busy with a Bajoran who wanted me to get his girlfriend out of ore processing because it's some holy Bajoran day today."

None of it was true. Isabel hadn't been busy at all. Actually, at the moment Gil Reman informed her of an incomming transmission from Dea, she had been debating on whether to leave for Quark's or return to her quarters.

A transmission had been just the thing to raise her spirits. But when she'd heard that it was Dea calling her, a hunted feeling overcame her an she impulsively stalled for time.

Because she needed to get ready for her perofrmance.

Yes, Dea had been the one to give her the title of the great deceiver. But precisely because she knew her so well, she knew her forementioned skill, and how to recognize it at work.

So, lying to Dea always came by more difficult than lying to anyone else. Except for Dukat.

Usually, there never was any reason to lie to her best friend. She had never had anything to hide from her. No relationship, no situation, not even her 'top secret' missions. That was fine, and Isabel hadn't been bothered by it since Dea had been the only person she always had to tell the truth to. Not really had to…she could lie to her, just that she did it reluctantly.

Now, there was another person she couldn't…but literally couldn't…lie to. And that was what Isabel had to hide.

Not because Dea would _have minded_ Dukat. It was because Isabel would have minded that anyone knew of the existence of such a weakness for her. It would have been intolerable for her to look at the pity in Dea's eyes when she told her she…cared about… a man who could never…care about her…the same way.

_Not that I love him. Of course I don't love him. I've simply begun to care for him…slightly. Maybe I feel he is my possession or something like that. But surely I don't love him!_

Dea would never have bought that.

Letting that be, Isabel concentrated on the conversation 'about the Bajoran'.

"And you let her go?" There was an undertone of scolding in Dea's voice. Isabel scoffed gently; her best friend had never hidden disapproval for her way of doing things. But Isabel blamed that on Dea's inability to remain objective. To look at things from all perspecitves.

"You know I didn't." She shook her head, "What do they think I am, charity? if he wants me to help him, he needs to have a valid reason."

"You are supposed to be charity, Isabel, for the Bajorans." The line would have annoyed her anyway. Adding to it the state she was in now, sleeping with the Prefect of Bajor, hating him yet…caring for him…a part of her was angered because Dukat was against Bajorans, so she couldn't stand anyone wanting to give them charity. Naturally, she didn't take that as a reason. Her mind decided it was going to be the other reason, one that would've provoked a far milder reaciton on its own.

"Dea, I_ really_ don't get it why everybod keeps pitying the Bajorans and treating them like poor little souls, while the Cardassains are veiwed as nothing else but animals that enslave them! I mean, REALLY, don't you know a first thing about diplomacy and politics? Yes, the Cardassians occupied their world. So what? They were weak, and were conquered. It has happened on Earth more than just once. What I need to do isn't to go running around and…following the Prefect around blabbing about how what he is doing is wrong! I have to act within certain limits, and that doesn't mean letting every Bajoran out of ore processing whenever I'm asked to!"

Dea seemed stunned by the high-intonated monologue Isabel had just delivered her. It took a few seconds and more than a few deep breaths for the Intendant to steady herself, and during that time, Dea saw that something was wrong.

Isabel's entire strategy had developed around the fact that she was not to give Dea time to doubt. But her own thoughts that had led to this turn of events had really surprised her.

The moment Dea had mentioned that she was supposed to help Bajorans(something she had been told a thousand times), a fact completely unrelated to Dukat, Isabel had right away been led to how it opposed everything _he _was doing, and how it was completely against_ his_ views. That immediately reminded her of him, and the reasons he was supposed to by lying to Dea, and mingled with the irritation she usually felt when being lectured on politics by someone who didn't know a first thing of them…

Once more Dukat had interfered with her plans and actions…even though he wasn't even on the station.

_Where was he?_

It didn't matter. It didn't matter. Repeating that like a mantra, she watched Dea speak, focusing on her words as hard as she could.

"Isabel." She began, a serious expression on her face, "What's wrong? Spit it out."

"Nothing's wrong." Her defences had to hold, "I'm just frustrated by that constant nagging of yours concerning things you don't even understand."

"Maybe I don't get politics, but I get you. And something is off with you, Isabel. " Her eyes fixed steadily on Isabel's, "And I want to know what."

"Nothing." Isabel said again, "Nothing." Watching carefully for her look not to waver, she stared back spitefully into Dea's blue orbs. Certainity had to breathe out of her.

For a few moments, they both sat silently, glaring at each other. Then, unexpectedly, Dea's face ceased being persistent and took on a sad and a disappointed expression.

Her eyebrows rising, Isabel was on the edge of inquiring what was wrong with _Dea_, when she began to explain it herself.

"Last year, I made friends with a Bajoran. I've told you about it…" Her voice carried a hint of accusation upon seeing Isabel's confusion, so Isabel racked her brain to remember. Vague recollections surfaced from the depts of her memory, and she nodded her head abruptly; "Yes, I do."

Of course…at the Academy, during a meeting…Dea was quite involved with humanitarian work…she'd even given her the name of the 'very nice Bajoran woman she had met and made good friends with'…but it wouldn't come to her now…

As if reading her mind, Dea continued.

"Well, her name is Tanal Lupaza."

Immediately, Isabel froze. That last name. Tanal. Tanal. _Tanal._

Lines spoken a month ago she hadn't even been aware she'd memorized were once again vividly audible in her ears;

'_Tanal Lomarra…will serve as an example to the rest of you, as she shall be delivered a death penalty for attempted murder of Constable Odo and Intendant Isabel Kellis.'_

Horror in her eyes, not horror because Lomarra had been killed, but horror because she had been the sister of Dea's friend, _her best friend's friend_, made Dea make a brief pause before going on, now not even bothering to hide the contempt in her voice;

„Lomarra-was-her-seventeen-year-old sister."

The careful pronounciation of each word and the color rising in her cheeks was what obviously showed that Dea was angry. And once she _got_ angry, she really went to and over the edge.

However, Isabel believed that she had nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to regret.

„Dea." She began, „You can't possibly blame me for the death of Lomarra, who had nearly _killed me_--„

„That is not the point here, Isabel." Dea's voice gained on strenght, „The point is something completely different, something I believe you have been trying to hide from me ever since this conversation began."

„And what would that be?" By the time she finished the sentence, she began to fear…but no, it couldn't be…there was no way she could possibly--

„The point is…that Lupaza had…with such _scorn_…informed me that Gul Dukat had given the execution as _a gift…_to his new girlfiend." Her pools halted on her friend's eyes the same time Isabel's heart halted, „Now I wonder what kind of a person would accept a gift like that?"

Isabel was not at a loss of words. She simply knew that any would have been futile right now.

A part of her(a part she had already given up trying to restrain) jumped to defending Dukat right away. He had had her executed because of the law and Cardassian justice, it was not just a gift…and she hadn't looked upon it as a gift.

But she couldn't say that…because she would be admitting that she was his girlfriend.

Was she?

No..she was more among the lines of his puppet…his doll. His toy. Of course, that would've hurt even more…yes, hurt…to say out loud to Dea. Latley, it…pained her to think of it that way, but she still was trying to restrain that.

Anyway, confessing anything to Dea was not to her liking. But she obviously knew it…and denying it would not have been useful. Dea could've simply checked with any other Bajoran Lupaza knew on the station. And further…if the Resistance already knew of it(Odo said they did, so they did).

Strangely, Isabel found herself wanting to simply remain silent and turn back time. Something had to be said, though, so she swallowed deeply, pursing her lips tightly before raising her eyes again.

„It was not a gift." Her tone was silent, defeated, but bluff.

„Oh." Dea titled her head, „So it wasn't a gift. But you…" She seemed to have trouble looking for words out of frustration, „You are sleeping with the Cardassian Prefect of Bajor!"

The last part was nearly hissed, and Isabel realized it was a very accurate description of their relationship. She and Dukat slept with each other, and that was it. For him, at least. A dinner here, a surprise there…It was just foreplay.

Refusing to display her disappoitment conerning that, she nodded her head, and couldn't avopid feeling a bit proud. She had never felt proud because a man who could've had any woman had chosen her…until now.

There were so many things she hadn't experienced until Dukat.

„What's next? Will you soon be telling me you love him!? Will I be invited to the egnagement party!?" Sarcastically, Dea gesticulated, not realizing exactly how much Isabel minded each and every one of these words.

„No. No." She said almost frantically, stopping Dea from another wave of suggestions, „I don't love him and we won't be getting engaged nor married."

For the first time, she wished she was lying.

It was quite a blow to her, the grasping of that wish. But it was undoubtedly there. And pretty strong. Isabel repressed it, depserate for a change of topic. Unfortunately, there was going to be none. Not when this subject had reached such a level of seriousness.

„I haven't expected this from you, Isabel. So you're his plaything. How charming. How very charming! And you must be letting him kill people…do whatever he pleases. No wonder you didn't want to let that Bajoran woman out of ore processing for one day, one day--!"

„Dea, that's enough!" She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take the truth being spat right into her face, the truth she had been avoiding for such a long time, „I never let my personal relationships interfere with my duties, and I don't allow it now. The reason I didn't let that Bajoran out is because the following day, every one of them would want to be 'liberated from their duties'. Then the Cardassians would get rid of me for decrasing their workforce efficency, and I would not be able to _do anything_!"

Dea snorted.

„And now you are bending over backwards to help the poor people…"

Annoyed, Isabel turned away with a sigh.

„Don't tell me how to do my job, Dea."

After another long and uncomfortable moment of silence, the latter shifted.

„You're right. I won't." She halted, and went on more determinedly, „But I will tell you that I didn't imagine you would go this far at your quest of proving your worth. I always knew you'd find yourself a simillar man, but a man like that…" Genuine concern shortly replaced the ice in her eyes, „Be careful, Isabel."

Isabel would've, in any other situation, been angered by the remark that she was trying to prove her worth; and insult to her strong repletion. Now, though, her entire focus was taken by the last part. The warning.

_Be careful._

If she had only been careful. If she had only been careful enough to prevent herself from…caring about such a man.

Once that she had begun to care for him, that she had stepped into that bitter sweet web that entangled her completely, she was past the point of no returning.

She would do anything for him, anything at all he asked of her.

And there was no going back.


	10. I Love You Too?

Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Four days passed very slowly for Isabel Kellis. Mostly, she had been busy with all the duties she got thanks to the absence of the Prefect. Needless to say, she had been busy with the concept of that absence as well. She missed him, she couldn't deny it, even though there was also slight fear present…fear of his return. After all those powerful emotions he evoked within her had been absent during his time on Bajor, their return…It was again something she both liked and disliked. She liked it because when he was away, no one could accuse her of acting like his marionette, and she felt as if she was acting for herself and herself only.

However, there was always, every time she would make a decision, that one line constantly rolling around in her brain; _Would he like this? _or _What would he do?_

And she missed him and wanted him back.

Dea hadn't contancted her since their argument. Isabel hoped for the sake of everything that she was going to keep her mouth shut about her newest findings. If word leaked to Admiral Duane…or anyone in Starfleet Command at all…she would be ruined. All right, not ruined, but immediately retracted from Terok Nor. That pretty much equaled to ruin, not to her sane mind, but to her heart and subconsciousness.

At lest she had managed to keep the most important secret from her…what she felt for Dukat. She _cared for him,_ not loved him…but Dea would've taken it as the same thing. Most people would. But Isabel _was now_ sure she hadn't fallen in love with him. That would have been truly stretching it…nothing like that could happen to Isabel Kellis. She had long ago dimsissed the chance that she was merely acting possessively. That would've explained only the jealousy, not the…rest of it.

She was sitting in her office, signing the latest station reports, checking the time every few minutes. Her last inquiry had shown 9:30. Dukat was expected back at 10:00. Isabel had taken special care of her appearance for him, putting on a tad more makeup than usual and curling her dark hair. When she had asked Odo how he liked it, he said he _was certain it would suffice_. But of course, who would have expected a different remark from Odo! She was confident Dukat was going to tell her she looked beautiful. A smirk curved her lips at the remembrance of all the wonderful compliments he basked her in. That was why she--

Adored spending time in his company; she corrected herself fervolently before thinking of the wrong thing.

Only a few more reports, and she would be free to go to Ops. She had been using her own office instead of the Prefect's…mostly because she didn't want to sit there in a room that would constantly remind her of him while he was so far away, God knew where exactly. She thought about him enough as it was.

Her gaze trailed over the Ore Processing Efficency Reports. The Bajorans had been quite efficent these days. Isabel was sure Dukat was going to pleased. No sick, no injured, and only one arrest…

The name of the arrested person instantly grabbed her attention; Tanal Doro. Recallings of Dea's friend immediately came to her. Was this one related to Lupaza as well? Was Dea going to blame his arrest on her as well?

Shaking her head, she put the Report away, signing it and pushing away from the chair. Finally, she got to climb to Ops and wait for Dukat's ship to dock. She walked out of her office, heading for the turbolift.

The Promenade was quite deserted; the only sounds were heard from Quark's. Isabel noted that she hadn't been thee for quite some time. Maybe one of these days…when she's not busy with Dukat…

The turbolift was just as empty, but she hardly minded it. Again she asked the computer for time, and found out it was quarter to ten. It was good she'd left her office now…she hoped Dukat was going to be early. The sooner he came, the better.

Her presence in Ops was ackonwledged by Glinn Ferak, who was currently the head of the duty shift, and who greeted her promptly; "Intendant."

She nodded at him, stepping out of the lift. Her eyes wandered around to see everyone working focusedly, as usual. Cardassians were truly an effective people, she heeded once more with admiration. Unlike Bajorans…servile work was in the nature of the latter, or so she had been impressed.

The screen was still empty, which meant nothing was going on. Moving closer to Ferak, she asked;

"Has the Prefect's ship appeared on our short-range sensors yet?"

Her tone was completely flat, not giving Ferak any reason for doubt. There had been no need for hiding anything, though, since he was more than well aware of her and Dukat. Not that he did anything to give that away.

"No, Madam."

"Good." Isabel remained standing there, her eyes straight ahead. Her presence did not seem to have affected anyone, for all were doing their duties just the same as before she'd made her appearance. Really, one didn't know whether to be satisfied, or to feel as if nobody had taken notice of her!

The mistery. Another thing that made Cardassians so interesting.

Time passed rather quickly, now that she was preoccupied with thoughts of what she and Dukat were going to do when he returned. Their fiery reunion…and, oh, it was going to be fiery, all right, if she had any say in it.

She wasn't going to, though…they were going to do what he said they were going to, just as always.

But still.

Maybe ten minutes had passed when Ferak's voice woke her up from her daydreams.

„Gul Dukat's shuttle is approaching the station. They are ready to dock."

Isabel couldn't escape a satisfied smile.

„Welcome them back…and initate docking procedure."

„Yes, Madam." Ferak obeyed coolly, starting a series of commands on his console. Isabel turned towards the screen. The shuttle was nearing the docking ring. It took quite an amount of effort not to rush down there right away, but she restrained herself using some unseen power. She watched the ship come closer and closer. _Just a little while longer._

„Status, Ferak?" She said cheerfully.

„They are docking." Ferak reported, „Initi--"

He didn't get to finish the sentence, because an enormous explosion shook the station, sending him hurtling towards the ground. The same happened to everyone in Ops, while a flew consoles blew up, covering two Gils with plasma burns. Screams and yells were heard all over.

A console serperated from its base, falling onto a Glinn on the floor. He let out an exclaim of agony, only to have another part of the very same console fall on him and break his neck.

Gil Larias, a woman who had been engaged to that very man, cried out desperately, and due to the fact both of her legs had been broken by a fall she'd suffered because of the implosion of a bulkhead, began crawling towards his dead body.

Isabel herself fell down the stairs, receiving a nasty hit to her head and her shoulder, but she paid little attention to it and only felt the pain as superficial. The first thing that sprang to her mind, and that wreaked havoc within it as she rolled down the cold metal, was the source of the explosion.

She knew what it was. There was only one thing it could have been.

But she didn't want to believe it. As she finally came to a halt, she lied down, dizzy, more because of her emotions than because of the actual fall.

The crying of Larias reached her ears, but only barely got through to her brain. Instead, she could've heard her own crying on the inside, her own desperate yelling because everything had been going _so well._ It was hardly believable, that things could take such a sudden turn for the worse. The worst. If her fears were true, if every instinct within her was functioning properly, then it was _for the worst._

Struggling to get out of the frozen state she was in, the Intendant pushed up, her surroundings still blurry to her. Perhaps, she perused, she had to be an optimist. Maybe it wasn't it. Maybe something else had happened…maybe a Bajoran revolt, or another attempt on Odo, or a mere malfunction…

But she remembered Odo's question ever so clearly; _"…explosives. Those are the Konh-Ma's most frequently used tools, aren't they?"_

And Denad's cold answer; _„Yes. It is fortunate that the Prefect is away…"_

_Well, you'd been wrong. _How little triumph that brought her. How she wished he had been right.

The Konh-Ma had used that information…Denad's contact…as a decoy. So they would focus all the security on the station, and disregard the Prefect's trip to Bajor and the shuttle…

It was the worst possible option, she knew that. The worst possible way it could've turned out. She wanted to ask Ferak what happened, to ask him and give him the ability to deny it, to say Dukat was perfectly all right, that this explosion had had nothing to do with him at all.

But she couldn't take that risk. She couldn't bring herself to waste another second for that, when there was the slightest possiblity(and not just so slight) that Dukat was down there, wounded, dying or…she couldn't also bring herself to think of _that._

Images of his battered body that had come to her before and that she had hardly blocked came back now. Dukat, lying wounded, Dukat, in need of help, she, Isabel, wasting those so precious seconds merely in a futile attempt to dispose of her own fears…

„Ferak!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, „Transport the Prefect and all the survivors to the Infirmary, _now_!"

Ferak got to his feet, reaching up for the transporter command. Isabel once more felt the world spinning around; what if he said there were no survivors? That everyone, including Dukat, was gone?

In horror, she watched him press the buttons, praying, pleading, _begging…_

„The Prefect_…" Oh, God. Oh, please, oh please, don't let him be dead. Please, there is so much I have yet to tell him, so many things that can't be left untold…_ _Oh, God, I'll do anything you want, anything at all, die, kill myself, anything, anything, anything…_

_Don't let him die, God._

_I love him._

„…is the only survivor."

The exhale of relief, gratefulness, joy, bliss, whatever it was, left her, and was so strong and loud it was easily heard even mixed with all the noise. And she let it be so. Isabel Kellis didn't care if the entire galaxy, the entire universe heard her or saw her now. All that she cared about was that the man she loved…yes, loved, there was no denying it now, had survived.

She was never going to let him go. She was never going to let him out of her sight. She was going to arrange for his every move to be surrounded by guards…But she was never going to let something like this happen again. She was positive _she_ would not survive it.

The shock not yet fully subsiding, she ran for the turbolift, barely managing to press the Infirmary deck button. Ferak had noticed her, but had been too busy with taking care of the rest of the casualties. However, he'd cast her a look, a look of warning, abandon, but also understanding.

It didn't qualify as important enough to enter her long term memory, though. Not among such events. Finally alone, Isabel only realized that she was trembling. Othewise, that would've left her ashamed, embarassed, but now, she couldn't have cared less. Her thoughts kept running to Dukat. Oh, she wished the turbolift would hurry. It was too damn slow. She was going to change that, too…when people had someone they loved in the Infirmary, they wanted to get there quickly.

The lift, as if on cue, stopped, opening its door to her. Isabel ran out onto the Promenade, focusing on one door and pushing away everyone that got into her way. As she ran, she thought of a question. When had she begun to love Dukat?

Had it been that very first day, when she'd entered his office, a young woman full of confidence deeming herself to be capable of manipulating him? How long ago that seemed! She felt much different now experience-wise. She had believed that the Prefect was a man to be manipulated…he turned out a man to be manipulated _by. _

Maybe it had begun during their first date, the dinner in his quarters. They'd enjoyed it so much! And when he kissed her, so stylishly, so eloquently, if a kiss could be like that at all…everything about him was like that.

By the time she reacehd the Infirmary, she felt something wet and salty on her face and her lips…tears. She was crying. Crying at the recallings of such wonderful memories that could've all been lost…and that possiblity still hung uncomfortably over her head.

Uncomfortably? To weak a word. Deathly was more like it.

Tevak saw her enter, but was too busy running around preparing for surgery(that much was evident even to her). At the painful questioning in her eyes(that much was evident to_ him_), he inclined his head at the door of the operating room. Without a word, Isabel followed his clue.

Dukat was lying on the biobed, his eyes closed, his face covered in blood. Underneath that, he was pale, as pale as death itself. Until now, Isabel had been horrified of what she might encounter here. Now, she felt slightly better; he did not look terribly deformed, he didn't lack an arm or a leg, and he appeared rather whole.

A strong feeling of _deja vu_ hit her, and for a moment she saw herself lying on that bed, plasma burns all over her, dying. Then, Dukat had been informed of her status, and he had come rushing into the Infirmary, promising to make the Bajoran pay for what she'd done. Had he felt like she was feeling now? Had he gone through all this?

If he loved her, maybe. Now that the fact that what she felt for him was love(and in its strongest form) was out in the open, fleeting freely through her consciousness, hope was inevitable; hope that he could return those feelings. That he could love her too. Doubt, yes…but doubt was so easily dismissed, the negative always was, lost among visions of how beautiful it could be with the positive.

She was going to make the Bajorans pay for this too. She was going to kill every last one of the bastards that could be responsible for this…and their entire families. They were going to be forced to watch their loved ones die in front of their eyes before joining them themselves. They were going to know how she had felt at this very moment, they were going to be such examples that nobody was ever going to think of doing anything to Dukat again…

The violent nature of her thoughts hardly came as a surprise, for she knew her fierce temper more than just too well.

The Bajorans could wait, though. She saw Dukat's eyelids raise slightly and stepped forward. He had to know. He had to know _now._

"Dukat." Her voice was nothing more but a hoarse whisper, she deduced, but ignored that, just as she ignored the nurse who hurried past her, "Dukat. It is me..Isabel."

He opened his eyes, and then closed them back, not acknowledging that he had heard her in any way. She didn't mind. She had to say it. It had been trapped inside of her for far too long.

"Oh, Dukat, how you've scared me…I've never been so scared in my life. Do you know what it's like when your heart gets stupefied? Well, I doubt you do, since you've always been so brave and charming and smooth…I think that if you faced death, you'd laugh at his face…You're so much stronger and braver than me. And you've got that silver tongue of yours…bathing me in compliments for all the time…Do you know, Dukat, how flattered I was every time you said a nice word to me? How important you made me feel? You are the only person that could've ever made me go silent, leave me speechless. You've always had that aura of power, that 'natural leader' asset that had me drawn to you. Soon, I had begun to see our meetings as not only the highlights of my day, but of my life. These four days without you were so difficult…I can't even begin to imagine what an eternity like that would've looked like. I would've most likely died…of a broken heart. Because…" Hesitation came here; was she going to say it? She had to, she had to. Because of the reasons she'd just mentioned. Because she would rather risk being his complete slave than risk losing her sanity to keep what she felt a secret. Swallowing, she finished the thought;

"Because I love you, Dukat. I've fallen for you, deep and hard. And…I love you. I suppose that's it. I love you." Tears came in streams; it was so liberating to say that out loud, to him. It was something she had wanted to do for all the time.

Closing her eyes, letting out a loud, cackling sob, she leaned against his arm, inhaling his scent, wanting to remain there forever.

Dukat had heard every word she'd said to him.

He'd even recognized her, the speaker, not solely because she'd said who she was. That voice, confident, those words, so wondefully picked in spite of the state she was in. Dukat would've recognized the voice of Isabel Kellis anywhere, any time.

The words…the words took more effort, but soon, they became understandable. He listened to the Intendant tell him all those things rising him to heavens, all those things he had secretly so wished to hear from her when he'd held her in his arms during their nights together, words he had even dreamed of(he only remembered that now) once or twice.

How she admired him, adored him, liked him, cared for him…

And the end. The most spectacular part of it all.

She loved him. Isabel Kellis loved him. Truly loved him.

It was almost impossible for him to utter a word. He was too weak currently…but he had to try his hardest to fathom the strength to answer to that question.

His consciousness, in the state it was now, divided into two in orded to provide the final answer. Only one of the two parties could have won.

The fight was bitter and difficult. One part of him wanted to say _I love you too_, one part of him wanted to spend the rest of his life as close to Isabel Kellis as possible, forsaking all others. Embarking upon adventures with her was just what a man like Dukat needed…That part of him actually thought he could love her, he could feel anything more than just amusement and pleasure when looking upon her.

But there came the other one, one that brought recallings of Naprem, her soft temper, sweet personality and honey-colored eyes looking at him full of affection. And their daughter, Ziyal, who had been so overjoyed with the dress he had given her for her birthday. Immediately, he saw again himself meeting Naprem…how she supported him, loved him and cared about him, defending him and every decision he made. How could he even think of abandoning her…them?

Ah, yes, it would've been wonderful with Isabel…

That one part wanted to go with her so desperately. _And if I was younger, I would've…if I didn't have a position this important and a woman I already love… _If. But it wasn't like that. He had a woman that already occupied his heart and an important position. Isabel wouldn't have been like Naprem. Naprem was a Bajoran, and she understood that she had to be hidden.

Isabel…Isabel was very well aware of exactly how worthy she was. And she had a high dose of self-respect and self-assurance. She wasn't used to being 'the second' to anyone. She would've wanted more. He would never be able to give her that _more._

The outcome of the battle seemed to be decisive and evident. In one last, final struggle, the former part tried to reach out and get through.

"I love you too…"

The words he whispered were like velvet to the ears of Isabel, and she wanted to cry out with joy. Raising her head, she smiled, looking into those blue-grey eyes she adored so much…

"..Naprem."

Everything crashed.

Every molecule in her body froze, her heart ceased to beat, and the world once again spun around her, even harder than the last time.

It was not true. It couldn't be true. All had gone up this morning…then down again…and now, just as he had begun to tell her he returned her feelings, just as he had begun to transform her into the happiest woman in the galaxy, it was all destroyed.

Naprem. Naprem._ Naprem. _

Her mind was too fumbled for her to think clearly right now, so she didn't even try to. Shocked, unable to fathom what she'd just heard, Isabel pushed away from the bed, watched Dukat close his eyes, and stumbled backwards. The doctor and the nurses around her turned into nothing, just as the surroundings, just as the floor she was standing on. Everything was gradually, but quickly, swallowed by oblivion. The entire universe formed into one, shapeless mass, and nothing existed anymore…nothing but that one word, that one name.

Naprem.

That and her cursed love, her cursed love for Dukat and the burning, searing pain. Pain that turned into physical.

By the time her mind ceased to be white and by the time she was capable of seeing again, Isabel found herself in the corridor leading her to her quarters. Was that where she was headed? She wasn't sure, but she let her legs carry her up to the point where she was leaning against the doorway, staring into the empty space before her.

The empty space that suddenly didn't seem so empty anymore.

It was filled with laughter, chatter, music and sounds of happiness. Not just sounds, but also images. There was she and Dukat kissing, cuddling, making out, hugging and making love. Sitting on the sofa, lying on the bed, even one of herself lying on the floor, laughing together with him at her clumsiness as she'd tripped over a lace of her new heels(ones he'd given her). After that, he lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed, loving her as passionately as ever.

Her emerald eyes trailed over to the doorway, and she jolted away, recalling how she'd held against it during their first time, and how he had leaned her against it during their first kiss.

_I have to get out of here._

So she did, promptly, now running towards the holosuites. There, she could create any enviroment at all, or simply sit in nothingness, undisturbed…

The moment she entered Quark's, the same thing happened all over again; she saw the two of them there.

So she ran from there too, averting her eyes as she passed by the Infirmary, where he was currently lying, thinking of his Naprem…

Naprem. How she hated that woman, whoever she was! How she wished she was dead, whoever she was!

Hours and hours she spent, looking for a place to be alone, a place where she could sit back and let her heart break into pieces. Her search had been a complete failure. Its only result was Isabel Kellis, tired and with hurting feet, plus a mortally wounded heart, walking down an unidentified corridor(to her), hopelessly attempting to escape from the memories that followed her no matter where she went.

Her eternal companions.

She hadn't encountered many people…actually, she hadn't encountered anyone. Or so she thought. It was totally unimportant. How little it_ all_ mattered…the things she had found precious over the last years seemed like distant ends of another dimension.

There had been, she knew it, only one thing that had truly mattered. And now it was gone.

_Why hadn't I enjoyed it while it lasted?_ She thought desperately_, Why hadn't I ever had the courage to admit that I loved him? That way, I could've at least lived in the illusion of him loving me as well, of us being a happy couple. _

Then again, that courage hadn't been of any good. How she wished, how she begged for a return into the past, how she wished she had never told him. Then…then their little play would have gone on, and she would have been at his side now, not here, running around like a madwoman, lost in her grief.

She also wished she could simply go back to him now, and pretend that she hadn't heard what he had said. Dukat would've accepted the game readily, even if he would remember his words, that one name…

Really, why had she gone as far as to tell him she loved him? Hadn't she known all along that he could never return that love all along? That their meetings were mere pleasure and fun to him? An interesting passtime? Hadn't she expected that he loved another?

She had begun to hope. Hope. In vain.

Returning to him was a valid possibility, and in the same time something she would never do. It wasn't quite clear to her, either. If she followed that course of action, she would not be able to look into his eyes without searching for Naprem within them.

If she didn't, if she went on living her life without him…then she wouldn't be able to look into the eyes of any man she met without searching for Dukat within them.

Or there wouldn't be much of a life. Everything else seemed so pale compared to him, like a frail, distant copy of perfection that could've been.

In the end, she couldn't take it anymore.

The door to her quarters opening before her, she sank to her knees, letting out a long, loud scream. Gradually, it degraded to sobs, which lasted for hours, until they finally silenced, leaving an empty shell, a broken-hearted Intendant asleep on the floor.

**Please, I shall ask you once again, do review! I want to thank jamieds9, who has been the ONLY person to actually bother to comment my work. :) The rest of you...I appeal to you, click that button!**


	11. How About Forever?

Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

When she woke up next morning, Isabel at first, for one, refreshing moment, didn't recall what had happened yesterday. Her first thought upon realizing that she was lying on the floor was, ironically, that she and Dukat had had more fun than usually last night.

As she stretched, her meemories slowly returned to her, at frist weakly, so she believed it had all been a bad dream. Then, as they gained on strength, it all came back to her.

_It had truly happened._

_Oh, no. Oh, no_. Despair and denial came again, but this time without tears as their companion. She knew she hadn't cried nearly all of them out, but there was only that much crying one could do in a day.

The images were too vivid and to powerful to be blocked, so they left her incapacitated, just lying there like a rock for a very long time. After a considerable amount of it elapsed, though, she gently began to regain control of her body. Her eyes, first; she could move them around again, then her limbs, her legs, her lips…then she swallowed, and pushed away from the floor.

The first thing she saw was a reflection of herself in the mirror. If she weren't so numb to everything, it would've sent her into another state of shock. Her black hair was loose and dangled around her shoulders, entangled and uncombed. Her face was paler than ever, nearly as pale as Dukat's had been(again he crept into her mind..!), while make-up that had streamed down her face together with tears had dried.

An objective eye would've still judged her as beautiful.

But now, after this, Isabel had changed. Looking at the monstrous(to her) sight that touched her surprisingly little, she reflexively did what she usually would've; she reached back into herself for her self-confidence.

And found nothing.

There was an empty hole where it had used to be, for a piece of her had been torn out.

Two days ago, she would've stared at this reflection and thought she was still beautiful.

Now, she could only say…

_What a beautiful _wreck_ you are._

A wreck, empty and hollow.

Barely getting to her feet, she grabbed a vase, one that had been given to her by _HIM,_ and threw it wrathfully into the mirror. It shattered, falling apart into a million pieces. Just like her life.

_Pieces I cannot collect on my own…I need you to be the one again…to help me feel like I've felt before._

Isabel trudged towards the sonic shower, leaning against the wall and letting it pour hot water over her. Closing her eyes, she was aware of one thing; she needed to find a solution. She needed to deduce what to do next. Staying in her quarters forever wasn't possible.

Leaving the station…also wasn't possible. Admiral Duane would've granted her that, all right, but it would take to much explaining, lying, denying…and she would never see _him_ again.

He'd hurt her, he'd hurt her so badly…Dea had been right, she should've been more careful. Yet blaming him, hating him…didn't come to her naturally. Oh, she hated him for this, all right…but she also loved him, loved him just the same as she had yesterday. And walking away, letting that damned Naprem have him…she was sure she wouldn't be capable of doing it.

I_ should've been silent and kept that one part of you I could've had…_

She could still have it. She could still be his doll, his toy, sleep with him and go to those ever-so-romantic dates. But now that she knew that other woman existed, it would never be the same.

Oh, why was she **bothering to think?!**

Isabel knew ever so well that she could never leave him. Not while there was any chance, no matter how slight, that they could be together in any way. Before, admitting that would've damaged her pride extensively. Now, pride didn't matter anymore. It was yet another of the million things she had given Dukat.

The showering cycle ended, and Isabel stepped out, taking another good look at herself in the bathroom mirror. The make-up traces were gone from her face, and she looked better. Everything except for her emerald eyes. They'd lost that shine she'd carried around since birth. Now, they seemed like two empty abysses colored green.

Why would she bother with that? Was he even going to notice it? Notice that there was something wrong with her?

He had his Naprem…why should he care…

Well, he had the luxury of_ choosing_. She didn't. She had to stay with him, no matter what it did to her. It was the only thing she knew with certainity now.

Even now, in this state, after all that had been, returning to his arms, where she felt so safe, and to his kisses full of fire, made some sort of elation rise within her. Even though none of it would never truly belong to her.

_Yet another victory of his. She was yet another conquest he'd conquered._

_Yes_, she said to herself as she left her quarters as groomed as always, _I have to make do with that little I can get._

Because, for some reason never to be unearthed, Isabel enigmatically felt honored that he had chosen her for his conquest.

She didn't know where she'd gathered the strength for it, but an hour later, after a quick breakfast at Quark's, Isabel was standing in front of the Infirmary, ready to enter.

Tevak was sitting in his office, she could've seen him from here. It was only a matter of time before he noticed her and before she was forced to enter unless she wanted to drop her pretense right away.

She took a deep breath. This was the only possible solution…and it hadn't taken much convincing to make herself do it. She wanted to go back to Dukat. She couldn't bare to be separated from him.

Not once had she lulled herself into believing it was going to be easy. She was not going to do it now either. It was going to be the most difficult quest of her life, where love was going to be her greatest enemy and her strongest ally. Which meant she was going to have to rely fully on her worst enemy. That was never good nor simple.

Yet she had nothing to lose. If she lost Dukat, she would've lost it all.

_If awareness of this Naprem is what I have to endure to be with Dukat_, She told herself for the millionth time today, _Then so be it._

"Dr. Tevak." The Cardassian hadn't heard her approach, so he flinched upon turning to face her, "Are visits to the Prefect allowed?"

Tevak nodded; "Yes, Intendant. If he is awake." He eyed her, and went on with slight restrain; "Constable Odo has been looking for you. He came here yesterday, but you had already…gone away."

It was evident he wanted an explanation of where she had been. He'd been surprised by her absence in a time like that, when Dukat's life had been endangered, especially after the way she'd stormed into his Infirmary at the beginning.

Isabel had neither the will nor the intention to let the anger for her actions being questioned surface. All she wanted was to get to Dukat, see him, and ascertain what her instincts already knew; that _he_ was going to be enough strength for her to go through with this. Right away, she needed that strength, because her own was slowly dispersing.

"Yes." It actually took effort for her gaze not to waver; "I had to take care of some paperwork."

"Ah." Tevak appeared to be bordering with being convinced; "Well, the Constable has aksed of me to tell you to contact him as soon as you are able to."

"Good." Isabel nodded, "I'll do so after I visit the Prefect."

The Doctor offered no comment to that, so she turned around and headed towards the operating room, where Dukat was still located.

He…his entire being was a reminder of how much she loved him. As she slipped out of Tevak's eyesight, she wondered how had she managed to ever tell herself otherwise. How had she managed to hide something so obvious? The fact that the Bajoran Underground knew of their relationship didn't seem like such a big thing. It was good they hadn't found out of the--_her_ love.

_What did I do wrong? _The Intendant asked herself as she watched his chest rise and fall, his dark hair, his muscular body, _Why is Universe making me pay so much? I'd give my all…just to have him love me back. _

Just standing there, staring at him, made her feel better, though. She didn't have his heart. However, she did have his lips, his body, his attention…his lust. He considered her worthy. That brought her up to seventh heaven, in spite of all the pain the knowledge of another woman in his life made her experience. In spite of all that had happened, of what she'd found out, now that she looked upon him, Isabel was still ready to give away her head on the bet that he could never do something like that to her.

Dukat stirred, opening his eyes slowly. Isabel Kellis was the first thing he saw, her raven hair in a bun, her face perfectly made-up. It was the old Isabel, all right, not the crying, emotional woman that was the last thing he remembered before darkness. She must have gone to her quarters to gussy up. A smile curved his lips despite the throbbing in his head; that was just like Isabel. God forbid she allowed herself to be seen outside without looking perfect.

Why had Isabel cried, though…?

He, too, gradually recalled past happenings. When he did, his jaw dropped for a millimetre, and his eyes took on a pointed look.

Isabel Kellis had told him she loved him.

And he had told her he loved Naprem.

One of the things he had to worry about was the fact that his secret concerning Naprem was out. But that was something he could've easily gotten out of; a Bajoran comfort woman, nothing more, one whose name he had uttered in a delirious state for reasons unknown to him. Nobody would question whatever he said.

There was another, bigger problem, though. It didn't have to be a problem, and he most certainly hoped it wasn't going to be.

Isabel and he had taken it too far. At least too far for her. She ranked as his comfort woman, one of his mistresses, not a person he genuinely cared for…he genuinely loved.

He had always seen her as a woman who carried perfect understanding for that kind of relationship...the beautiful Intendant not reluctant to give in to his charms. Now that understanding seemed to have been vaporized, and she had developed stronger feelings for him.

This meant their relationship was to be terminated.

_Unless_…unless Isabel was ready to accept the fact he was never going to love her and continue acting as if nothing had happened. Dukat found he would like that very much. Keeping her close to him was not something he wanted to give away with ease. She was a most pleasurable lady.

Opting for that course of action wouldn't have surprised him, coming from isabel Kellis. Up to now, she had not once proved to him she was anything else but the perfect woman--

What a shame that he couldn't love her back.

Isabel saw him wake up, and she stepped closer. She found she'd been right at both things; she did see Naprem in his blue-gray eyes. And the concept of him gave her all the strength necessary to endure it.

"Hello there, Prefect." Her voice was, at her own surprise, as coy as it should've been.

"Intendant." He said smoothly, making her wonder whether he'd been so seriously hurt in the explosion at all, "How nice of you to visit me."

She chuckled; "Hadn't you done the very same for me?"

"I suppose I have..." Dukat grinned, "I am still glad you are here."

Had she not known better, Isabel would've easily believed his last sentence bore a secret meaning. Even though it couldn't have, she added her own, quite simillar concerning that part.

"I'll stay as long as you want me."

_How about forever?_

How silly of her to even _think_ he could say such a thing. The only one he wanted around forever was Naprem…

"That sounds just perfect."

This entire lie sounded so perfect. She only wished it wasn't so _painful._ As she let him take her hand into his and kiss it, she closed her eyes, knowing she _was _going to go along like this as long as he wanted her to. Until he disposed of her.

When that happened…she might as well die.

Isabel found Odo in his office. The Constable's sharp eyes flew over her and stopped on hers; she knew he'd noticed the emptiness right away. She didn't bother with it much. There was no way he could pin anything on her if she refused to admit it. A Security Officer, he should be more than just well aware of that fact.

"Constable." She greeted him, sitting down into the chair he offered her, "What can I do for you?"

"I've composed a list of suspects for the attempt on the Prefect's life." Odo extended his hand to give her the mentioned document, "I wanted you to look over it before showing it to the Prefect."

She hadn't detected any emotion in his voice, which was not unusual, even if he had noticed what was going on. Which she doubted. All he knew was that she was sleeping with Dukat. The rest was secret.

Only skimming the list, she looked back at the shape-shifter.

"Thank you, Constable. I'll read it." Then she halted, "How many are there?"

"Plenty." Odo scoffed slightly, "Glen Damar helped the investigation."

"Oh." Damar was vaguely known to her for his hatred towards the Bajorans and everything Bajoran. He would get as many suspects on the list as he could.

Since there was nothing more she had to say to Odo, Isabel began to get up, but his voice intercepted her unexpectedly;

"Intendant…"

Don't mention it, Odo. She didn't want him to mention it. That she looked different, that there was something missing from her usual attire.Something… How about her heart? It was nothing she wished to be reminded of. She knew it only too well.

"Yes?" She forced herself to sound nonchalant.

"Might I inquire what were you doing at the airlocks yesterday?"

Worse than her worst expectations had come to life. Isabel felt as if electrified.

Odo had seen her _yesterday_? Yesterday after her..conversation with Dukat? She'd been certain that she had somehow managed to go unseen. Now that she perused that further, she saw that opinion had been unrealistic. She'd passed the entire station. No matter what kind of alert it had been in, at least one person must have seen her.

Odo.

Perhaps it was good that it had been him; he was one person that knew how to keep secrets(or so she thought). He was going to keep any fact she told him to hold in such regard to himself.

Yet there was a dark side; there was no way she could persuade him she hadn't been in that wrecked state. He also had a keen eye for details, even keener than her own(especially at the moment given).

She had to try. Already knowing it was going to be a failure, she said;

"I'd taken a walk to get my mind off certain…things."

Odo hadn't been fooled by her perfect acting, she felt that. At least he did take the hint that it was going to remain a secret to him, the reason she'd been crying by the airlocks, nearly wishing to jump out and get it over with.

He nodded, pursing his lips. His pools remained on her for a few seconds, then he sighed silently.

"Thank you, Intendant."

"Constable."

Isabel turned on her heel and walked out, hunted by a fleeting thought; if Odo hadn't fully realized what was going on yet, he was beginning to suspect.

The list was atrociously long. In it, Glen Damar had included as suspects relatives of the relatives of the husbands of the sisters of the original subjects. Thoroughness was still commendable, and Isabel did need something to keep her mind away from Dukat(though this hardly lived up to the task), so she took what could've maybe been called pleasure in reading the names and the details, separating the accomplices, the supporters and the actual attackers.

The examination of the docking ring(or what was left of it) had led directly to a Bajoran named Randa Li. His blood had been found on one of the bulkheads(this kind of thorougness profoundly amazed her). Since no Bajoran was allowed there, Randa had been arrested immediately. His family, friends, all possible accomplices(the people that had been listed) were also in holding cells, while he was being interrogated by Glen Damar and Glinn Denad.

In spite of all, Isabel still wanted the Bajorans to pay for what they did Dukat. That was what made it even harder for her not to think of him, but it also gave her new ferocity to complete her task. So, as she moved further and further down the column of names, she found herself more seeking for excuses to make them guilty than free them(which was why Odo had actually given her the list at all). Dukat, she knew, would agree with her; when something like this occurred to a leader, he had to punish his subjects, as many as possible. Make them think twice before choosing to do something like it again.

Three hours had passed, and she had barely reached the half. So far, she'd only 'freed ' two Bajorans, who had firm alibies confirmed by Cardassian officers. Most of them would've shared that destiny had this been Earth, Starfleet, the Federation…but Isabel resorted herself to think the Cardassian way. It was a Cardassian space station after all. And she was Dukat's puppet after all.

At least love offered some sort of a valid excuse for that.

So most were labeled as guilty by her.

Moving down, she placed Sharo Reman in the 'supporters' group, since he'd been known for his strong opinions against Cardassia, but was weak when it came to deeds. Besides, that group needed more 'members'…most had been sorted as attackers or accomplices of attackers.

Henro Laza, 29, Female, Dakhur Province; expertise in advanced engineering, explosives; once fixed a malfunctioning explosive in Ore Processing; attackers.

Lek Dano, 45, Male, Rakhanta Province; had been suspected for weapons smuggling, proclaimed innocent by the investigation of Constable Odo; accomplices.

Ro Manan, 36, Male, Dakhur Province; suspected involvement with the Resistance; attackers.

Umara Naprem….

Isabel felt dizziness overcome her.

She stared at the name before her, repeating it in her mind; Umara Naprem, Umara Naprem…

'_I love you too…Naprem.'_

All the hurt that had camouflaged within her soul dropped the disguise now, coming back into the open. Enraged, Isabel jumped to her feet, throwing the padd at the wall as hard as she could with a loud cry. As it fell to the floor, she fell back into the chair, burying her face into her hands, cradling it.

What was she doing? What was going on with her? Why was she allowing this to happen to her here, now, on duty? In public? Anyone could've come in through the door and seen her like this…then the people on the list would not be the only ones suspected for something.

_Dukat_ could've come in through that door. And then…it would all be over..

_No. No. I am Isabel Kellis. I am not going to allow any Bajoran whore to destroy my relationship with Dukat…with the man I love._

Raising her head, she inhaled deeply and slowly, blocking the tears before they came running out of her eyes once more. Since when had she become the person that sat down and cried when something got in her way? She had always been the one to deal with things, get rid of them when they bothered her.

And now, as she walked over to the padd to pick it up from where it had dropped, a realization dawned upon her. She had the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to get rid of this Naprem.

Not that this was necessarily HIS Naprem. It was a common Bajoran name, but one she hated so much, one she'd heard him say in a way he'd never said her own name.

But there was always the possibility this was_ the _Naprem...and if that was the case…

Without even going over any data, Isabel placed her with the 'attackers'.

Was that going to be enough, though? Looking at the name, she felt more and more waves of anger…and hatred. No. If Dukat checked the list, he was going to remove Naprem from it and she was going to get away…if it was his Naprem, of course.

Maybe she should let him see her, making it the perfect test of whether it was the real woman. And a possibly innocent woman(she hadn't read the data on her _at all_) could maybe be spared of death that way.

Yet it was too much of a risk…if he saw that_ his_ Naprem had been scheduled for execution, he might take her to a safer place…and forever out of her vengeful reach. It was safer to have her killed without bringing it to his attention at all. She was sure she could persuade him to let her handle the executions. So caught up in her wounds, Isabel cared little for the life of one Bajoran worker.

There was nothing to lose; and if _Naprem _was to die, Dukat would belong to her and to no other. That was the way she envisioned it. So she confirmed the 'attacker' status.

She tried to move on to the next name, but found it impossible to focus. Her mind kept trailing back to Umara Naprem, and pessimistically lining all the possible events that _could prevent_ her from reaching her sentence. The executions were scheduled for three days. Anything could happen during that time…she could escape, she could be brought to Odo's attention…or Dukat could somehow get to the list in spite of all…

Unable to bare it anymore, she jumped back to her feet, grasping the report in her hand. Her eyes flew over the file on Randa Li. Status; in the process of interrogation; refuses to give away any names of any accomplices of his.

Well, she thought as she walked furiously, she had just the thing to make him talk. After forcing herself to take a look at Umara Naprem's file, she saw that she was his niece. The daughter of his sister. Isabel was going to show him exactly what destiny befell those who tried to tangle with Dukat…in all meanings of the word.

The holding cells would've been completely silent, was there not for a cold, Cardassian voice she recognized as Denad's;

"…the names."

It was demanding, intimidating…but what she had in mind was better. The Bajoran remained silent, and something like a punch was heard; undoubtedly the fine work of Glen Damar.

"I…don't…know…anything…"

Randa's voice was trembling, but hadn't lost determination. Not paying much attention to that, Isabel entered.

Randa was lying on the floor, Damar standing over him, while Denad was behind, where the Bajoran could've seen him clearly. The Bajoran was covered in bruises and was bleeding strongly. Isabel was little touched by it and ignored the fact.

"Denad." He spun around, and a scowl crossed his face, just as that of Damar. They were among those that minded having a human as their superior.

All of that mattered very little now.

"Intendant." Denad greeted flatly, "You would not mind if I asked you to be quick about whatever you are here for…we are in a middle of an interrogation."

"I see that much." She cut off, "And I know. I am here to aid your interrogation."

"How?" Damar spoke up, only to be shot a glare from Denad, who evidently liked being in command and didn't like that command questioned.

"It's very easy." Isabel eyed them both, and then handed another padd to Denad, "You'll execute these people tomorrow morning, on the Promenade. He…" She inclined her head abrupty towards Randa, "Will be present."

Denad glanced at the list; "I don't really see how that will--"

Damar souned again, for he'd obviously gotten the plan; the look of disbelief on his face said it clearly.

"Relatives?" He inquired.

"Precisely." Isabel saw the growing fear in the eyes of Randa Li, and felt better and better due to the power her current position brought her, "Umara Naprem, Umara Nehan, Randa Jaro." She'd been careful not to choose the sister of Li as well; she had to be there, he had to see the accusation in her eyes, feel the guilt for ridding her of her husband and daughter, and she could use as someone to persuade him to talk, "More of them will follow the very same evening unless he decides to speak."

Denad stared at the report, fighting between the distaste for her spieces(and the anger at Damar for seeing her plot before him) and the admiration for the brilliant ingeniosity of her plan. Isabel didn't know she would ever be able to feel proud again, but the rising feeling in her chest was certainly that; pride. Pride because this plan's brilliance concealed her true motives perfectly…and it was more than efficent for this purpose.

"We…" Denad struggled with words, "We require the Prefect's approval for any executions…"

"You'll have it." Isabel smirked, but also sounded seriously determined; "By the end of the day, you'll have it."

They both knew she was telling the truth.


	12. Gone Too Far

**Chapter Eleven**

"I raise my glass to your brilliance, Isabel."

Isabel smiled at Dukat's comment, raising her own, too, sipping the _kanar. _Only she knew how well the brilliance of his own smile made her overcome the hollowness within her.

It was difficult to keep it all away from him; why had she actually initiated the executions that had led to the uncovering of true Kohn-Ma leaders, the truth about the birth of the ingeniosity she'd displayed. She was used to sharing all such little things that mattered so much with him, and it had become a ritual of hers, sitting/lying next to him and narrating how her day had passed and all the wonderful deceptions she'd managed to pull off.

That would've also included things she had done by chance. Isabel would never openly admit it had been 'by chance', since she wished to appear perfect in his eyes, but omitting such an importan part as the fact she'd only come up with an idea because she wanted the woman who shared nothing but name and race with her lover dead surely wouldn't have been on her schedule.

Umara Naprem hadn't been Dukat's Naprem, as the Intendant had found out an hour after her execution. As bad as it sounded, it didn't trouble her much. What troubled her was that the moment she entered Dukat's quarters and saw him cheerful, holding Denad's report and congratulating her on a job well done, was only that his Naprem still existed, still was somewhere out there, being the object of his love.

When she and Dukat had made love that night, Isabel couldn't have helped but think whether he'd been imagining that damned woman for all the time.

_I'm nothing but a substitute to you…and I have to live with it._

Deep down, she still didn't want to believe that, but it was the truth. He wasn't going to love her now nor ever…but sticking with him still seemed the only choice possible to her.

"It had taken a few more deaths…but it had been very effective nonetheless." Dukat went on, "But I must say, you have made quite an untactful move."

The mild, even playful reproach in his voice still sent chills down her spine. He wouldn't…Dukat would not mention _Naprem_ when with her..

"And why would that be?" She tried to sound as careless as possible, but her grip on her glass tightened considerably.

Luckily, Dukat didn't seem to be paying any attention to her fingers. Instead, her eyes reaped all of it, which once again made her ask herself whether he actually saw how empty they looked at all…and whether he chose to ignore it deliberately.

"Because I had only given you the execution of one Bajoran woman. You had executed ten Bajorans, and exposed an entire terrorist organization, in a manner of speaking, for me."

"Oh." Color began coming back to her knuckles, "Well, I have always liked giving extravagant gifts…"

Dukat laughed and scooted closer to her on the sofa, placing his arm around her shoulder. He placed his _kanar_ back onto the table, staring deep into her emerald orbs.

As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't, as if trapped in some kind of invisible magic.

If he told her to jump out the airlock now, she would've obeyed without a word.

_And he didn't even love her._

"The fact is, Miss Kellis…that I do not like having my own gifts shadowed." His hand trailed over her face, removing the black locks from it; "In your case, though, I might consider…" He kissed her softly, "…making an exception and not opting for executing _you. _"

"And exactly what…would that exception cost me?" Isabel felt that pleasant tingling in every part of her body as their lips touched again.

"I believe that we both know that, Intendant…" Dukat's voice reduced to whisper, "I suppose I_ could_ always lead you through it with the addition of detailed descriptions of everything we do…"

"That will not be necessary--" She'd wanted to say something more, a lot more, but it all disappeared from her mind as his lips progressed lower down her long neck. She threw her head back in ecstasy, once more feeling the rest of the universe forming into one, shapeless mass. Even the well-known fact that had been torturing her so for the last few days withdrew to the far corner of her heart.

During that time, during the time that he made love to her, Isabel's illusion of a perfect life was stronger than ever.

So later, as she lied next to him, wrapped within his strong arms, she had to sufffer all of it going away and leaving her even more of an empty shell than she'd been before.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Odo had to talk with Isabel Kellis.

Not that he had any intention of mendling with her private affairs(even though he highly suspected that her private affairs were the cause of her behaviour). He merely intended to do his duty; to make sure that justice was satisfied.

Anything similar to that was impossible with the Intendant's current attitude.

Odo found it extremely distasteful to send a Bajoran woman to a prison cell simply because she continued begging for the release of her husband(who'd been imprisoned for theft a few days earlier) _after_ the Intendant had said she was _not_ going to let him go. According to one of the spectators, Khera Joni, a teeny collaborator he'd learned to trust, Isabel Kellis had refused to grant Lorana, the woman, her wish again. When Lorana went on and on, she completely lost control of her temper, calling for Damar and having him take her to the holding cells for a week. _An entire week._

There was no possibility he was ever letting that pass, so he'd already arranged the release of Meri Lorana. Nobody, not even Gul Dukat, could arrest someone and put him in his brig before checking it with him. Naturally, Dukat had the ability and the authority…but he mostly trusted Odo's judgement on that. Exceptions were very rare. The Constable didn't like to think of them.

Odo had to admit he did have fears regarding the conversation with Miss Kellis. Not because he was afraid he would give in to her. No. Odo's most emphasized effort was to treat her like his superior officer, second in command of the station, strictly officially. Trying that hard to do something, you had to succeed, no matter what it was. It took him more than he wanted to admit.

He didn't know where to find her at first, or at least where to begin looking. He kept good records of her movements, just as those of the Prefect and of nearly every person on this station. However, he often found himself more than just reluctant to take a glance at the screen and see her current location. He knew that there was always the valid option of her being in Dukat's office or his quarters. Being painfully aware of that for all the time was quite enough. He hardly needed objective proof to support it and make that pain even stronger.

Quark's was the logical place for the beginning of the search, even though Odo didn't intend on letting Quark know who he was looking for. He sincerely doubted he could take the Ferengi into believing what was, at the moment given, the truth; that he was looking for the Intendant because of professionaol reason only. Maybe because the other reason was ever present, making it nealry impossible to leave a different impression on anyone who knew of his feelings.

The Constable strolled into the bar, nodding at Quark, who, luckily, was very busy with a couple of Cardassians who seemed to be unable to cease ordering some Ferengi beverage. The Ferengi barely took notice of Odo(the latter hadn't thought for a moment Quark's internal didn't turn on and that he was going to be party to any criminal activity as long as he remained there) and went on with his business. Odo did the same, his eyes wandering around for the familiar shine of the raven hair.

He had to admit he wasn't looking forward to the meeting at all.

The sole reason to that was not the fact that they had to discuss unpleasant matters. Odo had gotten used to implying her certain relationship without bringing it up. Warning he not to be overly obvious would not represent anything more of a problem than talking to her ever day.

What Odo minded was being forced to stare into the constant emptiness in those once shiny and fiery green eyes. And there was nothing he could possibly do about it.

Lately, Isabel Kellis showed so little life comapred to the way she'd been months ago, when she had come to the station. Back then, he noticed, little things had mattered more to her; she would've often been seen in Quark's chatting happily with someone or taking a walk around the station. She'd laughed more, made more witty remarks and had been a cheerier person generally.

Something had, he knew full well, taken her spirit away. Eyes were windows to one's soul, as humanoids said, and Isabel's showed nothing but…_nothin_g. Something like that would've bothered Odo _slightly_ if she meant nothing to him. He cared about her, though, and that made this _hurt_.

Especially because he had a pretty good idea…not _why_ the sudden change had occurred, but who had caused it.

He'd seen Gul Dukat throw away many women and make them suffer. Something similar must have occurred with Isabel. She, however, visited his quarters as often as before. Which meant he had either coerced her into it, or…or she found out he was merely using her. Since she had known that before…and since she hardly seemed like a woman who would allow anyone to _coerce_ her…

Odo would've liked to know what exactly was going on between the two of them. That was impossible, he was well aware of it. It was not his place to inquire about it. Besides, it would've brought his motives to the danger of being revealed. And that would've been only bad for both her and himself…since their relationship could never work.

There was nothing, though, to prevent him from focusing more and more anger on Dukat. Part of it because he had Isabel, and the other part because he was undoubtedly the cause to her suffering.

'_Where could she be?'_

The Chief of Security asked himself, since Intendant Kellis did not seem to be entering his sight. Maybe she wasn't here…perhaps she was taking a walk…or in her office…Against his will, worry began to fill him. What if something had happened to her?

The thought of Isabel Kellis comitting suicide made him nearly sick…

Just as he thought of that, his look was suddenly drawn by a striking, red dress. A sigh of relief escaped him; it was her. The Intendant was sitting at a table on the upper floor of Quark's. She'd changed out of her uniform;he recognized the dress she always wore…then. Odo preferred it...since it brought out her personality. It was more than merely uncomfortable to know she wore it for Dukat.

The shape-shifter made a step forward, ready to approach her. She was alone, with a glass of what he judged was _kanar_, sipping it slowly, her gaze hovering absently over the Promenade(visible through a window). Odo was once again reminded of how beautiful she was. The lips, the hair, the body…

Averting his thoughts from that stream, he shook his head and continued walking. He had to be official. Show distaste, anger. Anger for what she'd done. He had to tell her never to repeat it again.

Yet he found it so hard to feel anything but…his feelings…for her.

He got closer and closer, and he took a deep inhale, ready to call for her name from the stairs, when something made him freeze.

Glen Damar got there first.

He came up to the table, greeting her with a simple; "Miss Kellis." Odo saw something was different in it, for Damar usually used 'Intendant' with restraint. This sounded as if they were…closer.

"Damar." She had the right to address him like that, she was his superior officer. Odo ignored the fact her voice didn't seem professional at all.

"I'm sorry I'm late--" Damar, completely stupefying Odo, sat down, beginning to apologize for being late for a meeting. Odo didn't hear the entire sentence due to an extremely noisy couple getting up from a table next to his 'object'.

A _meeting_ with Damar? What could that mean? Completely shutting off his assumptions, Odo decided to listen and bring conclusions based on facts, not premonitions. The latter had already begun making their way to his mind.

The couple went away just in time for him to hear Isabel finishing a line; "--a drink anyway."

"I'm glad we agree on that." Damar's grin was quite smug, "Shall we?"

Odo felt the entire station twirling around as he watched Isabel Kellis get up, take Damar's hand, and then walk past him, the Glen following her. For a moment, he was pulled into darkness, and knew of nothing else.

He even forgot that he was standing on the stairs like an idiot.

There were plenty of logical explanations for the scene he had just witnessed. They could've went off together to interrogate some prisoners, or to take care of some paperwork.

_In that dress? _The voice in his head of whose existance he had not been aware before sounded, _With that look in his eyes and that grin on his face?_

It was right, as much as admitting it was unpleasant, the voice was right. Damar had watched Isabel with a sort of a hunger…with lust. And it soothed his ego, that she was going to…

Sleep with him.

It took Odo a whole couple of minutes to recover, and when he did, it was only up to the measure of being capable of returning to his office. The most difficult walk of his life, full of images he despised; images of Isabel and Dukat, Isabel and Damar…

When he finally sat down, he could've sworn he was dizzy.

He had worthwile reasons. No one could've denied that.

A part of him, a part he hated from the bottom of his soul(providing he had one) was glad, glad that she had chosen to betray Dukat, whom he'd felt wrath for such a long time. That part wanted to go up to him and tell her…in spite of the distinct feeling that told him the Prefect wouldn't have minded it.

The other part pained excruciatingly because Isabel did not love him; that was his everlasting companion he'd gotten used to.

The third part…the third part he felt was the most honest one.

The third part was experiencing agony because a young woman such as Isabel had fallen so low. As low as sleeping with the Prefect after two days of knowing him…as low as letting him hurt her…and as low as becoming nothing more than a whore to the station officers. He was certain she wouldn't stop at Damar.

He didn't know what Dukat had done to her…or had he done anything…but he knew one…

_You've gone too far, Isabel._

The worst part of it all was that he had to stand by as a silent spectator and watch it all.

Doing nothing.

_Please, do give me reviews. I ask for them in every chapter, but you don't seem to notice. I will continue the story, because I love it, but I wanna see if you do, too!_


	13. Better Again

Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

Damar had been a good lover over the last few months.

She still wasn't, in spite of the time that had passed, certain why had she chosen to go to bed with him in the first place. He was handsome, attractive, and all that, quite a valid choice in anyone's objective or subjective opinion. What still surprised her was the fact that she had chosen to get that close with anyone else but Dukat. To cheat on Dukat, in a way.

In a way. In a way, because no one, no one who knew the whole truth could've said he had been faithful to her. And in a way, because Isabel had, each and every time Damar kissed her or touched her, each and every time he held her in his arms, constantly thought of Dukat. Exactly the way _he _thought of Naprem when he kissed her.

What _had prompted_ her to run to Damar was quite clear in her mind.

After one of their numerous(and currently on-going) dates, she'd woken up in Dukat's quarters, to find his side of the bed empty. At first, she though he'd gone away to dress, so she waited for him for a few minutes. She would've quickly fallen asleep again, had she not been interrupted by a sound of vocies coming from the next room.

Wrapping the cover around herself, she'd walked silently to the door, leaning against the doorway and glancing inside.

Dukat was sitting opposite to the computer, obviously talking to someone. Even though he was blocking the view of the screen from her, she knew who it was right away; if not by discerning the words then by his intonation, they way he spoke with care, warmth…and love.

"….visit you again." _Focus. Focus, Isabel._ She tried to calm down somehow, to stop the numb, hurting shock from taking over. Since it had already prevented her from leaving, gluing her to the floor, then the least she could do was listen to what they were saying. Simply remaining here in oblivion would've killed her.

"I know. I understand you are busy. We understand you are busy." Soft, gentle, silent, slightly high-pitched…the voice of a woman with a very mild temper, she judged. So that was the voice of Naprem. Oh, how thankful she was to the stupefying effect this had left on her; otherwise she would have run at the screen and destroyed it, just to see the fear and shock in the whore's eyes, for she was the object of all of her wrath. Now, the t_hought _of it somehow sufficed.

"Of course you understand." The way he spoke made tears fill her eyes, turning an angry woman into a sorrowful one in a blink of an eye; "And that is why I love you…both of you."

If she still had a heart, it would've broken to pieces again…instead, only the pain that would've brought was present. With god-like efforts, she managed to remain standing, to disperse the black clouds that began to form around her eyes. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she clutched the doorway. For a moment, she thought she was going to scream, the most primal instinct, for everything else in her mind was wiped out. However, she was too weak even for that…or(unlikely) she'd succeded in controlling herself.

If the 'we' before had somehow passed by her unnoticed, the 'both of you' Dukat had spoken so affectionately, the way she only wished to hear him say her name once in her life, had remained cut into her memory clearly.

Both of you. _Both of you. _So there was a child.

Dukat had not only another woman he loved, but she'd also given birth to his child. The mere fact that he hadn't gotten rid of it…proved that he cared for them a great deal. Compared to them, his feelings for her were so small…so insignificant. She was so insignificant. He didn't even respect her enough not to talk to HER when she was in his bed.

I_f she went away tomorrow, no one would miss her._

Haunted by that feeling, the thought that she would never mean anything to him, that she was completely helpless, that he wouldn't love her whatever happened, she ran into the bathroom, where she killed her cries in a towel and hid her tears with water. After that, she left the quarters(Dukat had done so before, not even notifying her of it) ,going to Damar.

Maybe it had truly been because of a need to repay Dukat(even though he would have little cared if he knew…and she couldn't bring herself to ever let him know, she loved him too much)…or maybe she had simply needed some way to get rid of all the anger she felt. She only knew that, when making love to Damar, she imagined Dukat in his place.

The meetings of her and Dukat hadn't been affected…at least not by regularity. They still met as often as before. But it had all become different. It pained her extremely to remember the way he'd used to court her, give her gifts, treat her like a princess, like his queen…now, it was nothing but sex between them. She'd come, they would do it, she would leave.

No matter how hard she tried, it was not changeable. Those nights of them drinking kanar and discussing various things elapsed into history.

For many times, she'd wondered if it had been her fault, if she'd wished too hard for their relationship to provide the illusion to help her go through life. The answer eluded her.

Perhaps the leftovers of her pride made her remain with Damar, who knew. Who knew… Not that it was anything different with Damar…only that with him it _had never been_ different at all.

To the cursed Naprem was now added their child…son or daughter…maybe both? Something more to torture her mind and haunt her dreams. Each and ever day she grew less and less satisfied with herself. She'd lost plenty of weight and looked nearly unhealthy. At least, she would often think ironically, she knew that was not the reason of Dukat's lack of attention towards her. Damar didn't seem to be minding it either.

Isabel hadn't heard from Dea ever since their final argument…nearly for a year now. It was nearly surprising how little that problem seemed when compared to the rest of it. Like a nibbling pain in the back of her soul.

She wasn't doing a good job on the station either…it mostly consisted of throwing tantrums at Bajorans and refusing all of their pleas and requests. Fiercely mad with herself for it, she still couldn't get rid of the subconscious force that made her wonder whether he'd approve of each and every decision she made. Taking it out on someone was necessary.

With other words, her life was in shambles…and she herself was not even a shadow of who she used to be.

"…and there have not been any other arrests this week." Odo finished, looking aroudn the briefing room.

Around the table were sitting Gul Dukat, Glinn Zolan, Intendant Kellis and himself. The usual group for weekly breifings. Before, it used to be the Prefect, Glinn Zolan, Glinn Denad and himself. Now, with Intendant Kellis present, Denad had (reluctantly) given over his seat. Being replaced by a human who outranked him and was more important on the station than him was a serious offence to his pride. Odo couldn't have cared less. He'd never held his deputy in higher regard.

Isabel Kellis he, unwillingly, _still_ held in the highest regard possible…subjectively. He tried not to think partially, but it gradually(and quite rapidly) became harder and harder. At least he had beaten the humanoid theory that the heart was the source of love; he had none.

It came as an exruciating burden, having to watch her deteriorate and deteriorate over the last year, having to watch her sleep with the Prefect first, then with Damar. One could've hardly recognized the woman that had come to Terok Nor twelve months(today was the exact anniversary, he knew) ago. All that confidence, all that shine, that victorious posture and all that_ life_ and pride. It appeared as if though something had broken her; the conslusion he'd come to a long time ago.

Dukat didn't seem to have done anything that could have _been seen_ to her…and they were meeting as regularly as before. Yet it was unlikely to Odo that he had nothing to do with the situation at hand. Damar…Damar must have only come as a side effect. Or something else…somethig completely unrelated had happened to Isabel and made her turn into who she was now?

For plenty of times, Odo had undergone the temptation to _ask_ her about it, in a subtle way so his feelings never came close to the danger of being unearthed. Each and every time, his mind would oppose that. For one, because their friendship, if there was one, had never been nearly as strong for it to be apt of him to inquire about her very personal life. It would've been a very awkward situation. Many options to evade this had occurred to him; connecting it to the way she performed her duties still lingered there as foremost. That one time he'd tried it, when he had seen her with Damar, had been when he'd come closer than ever again to actually talking to her. After that…he only debated it from within.

If she needed a way out of her situation, if he could help in any way…then he knew he was going to blame himself once it became too late. The mere concept of it 'becoming too late' would've made him shudder if he was humanoid. Still, he was not a part of her life. He was just a stranger on the road. She was with the Prefect, she was the Intendant, second in command of the station, and she hardly needed the help of one shape-shifter.

Even in his liquid state, he was constantly overwhelmed with that dilemma.

Barely silencing it down now, partly pushing into further behind in his mind, Odo forced himself to concentrate on what the people around him were saying.

"I believe that everything is in perfect order." Dukat was speaking, "Unless someone has anything else that requires to be mentioned…"

He gazed around the table, and Zolan opened his mouth.

"If I may, sir."

Dukat nodded, and everybody's attention shifted to the Glinn.

"Thank you." Zolan went on, "I believe that you all are already familiar with what I have to say. The problem has been present for quite a long time…but now, I believe there is a dire need to do something about it and bring it out into the open."

When his eyes trailed to Isabel Kellis, the reactions were different; Odo petrified, his eyes taking on an emotionless look. Dukat cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, questioning in his orbs.

As for the Intendant, she returned Zolan's look coldly, waiting with the same peace as before. Letting a few seconds pass, for the sake of the effect, Zolan finished his monologue with evident pride.

"Intendant Kellis…you have come here a year ago, I believe." He remembered, all right, since she'd taken his former position, "You have…since then…made some moves that no one would have expected from you…moves that should, perhaps be…commended." The reluctance in his voice displayed how hard it was for him to say that. Odo knew that the fact he'd uttered something like that meant what was coming was extremely bad(or good for Zolan)…worse than he'd expected, even.

"However, I believe that there are some of your actions that cannot be justified in any way." The Glinn turned around to look at the Prefect. Odo's eyes widened. No. It would be his own ruin. He wouldn't dare imply openly--

"Intendant Isabel Kellis has been having sexual relations with Glen Damar for quite some time now."

The impact of what he'd said had not been just as it would've been had he mentioned what Odo'd had in mind….but he couldn't yet deduce whether it was for the better or for the worse. He, himself, took it most calmly.

Dukat straightened slowly, his expression unreadable, his eyes moving from Zolan to Isabel. Odo followed everything, analyzing every move. By everything he knew, Dukat wasn't supposed to mind this. He was supposed to take it as merely another adventure of his toy…Since she was nothing but a toy to him. That was one thing he knew for certain.

The Intendant's cool attitude vanished, and(Odo nearly felt thankful) for the first time in a very long time, he saw some other emotion than blankness in her eyes. He was uncertain as to what it was. Ferocity, anger, panic…fear? But it showed that she was still _alive._ Just as the way she jumped to her feet, shooting Zolan with a glare.

"My private relations are the conern of me and myself _only_!" She hissed through her teeth, reminding of the woman she'd been a year ago. This differed from the tantrums she had when the Bajoran would get on her nerves…something seemed to have woken her up. Her dignity must have finally been triggered by Zolan's accusation. Which was true.

Unfortunately, Odo had a feeling it would not last, this Isabel. That she would soon go back to the way she'd been when she'd entered this room.

Zolan smiled a victorious grin;

"You will all agree that it is highly inappropriate for the second _in command of the station,_" He spoke that part with scorn, "To engange in any sort of relationships with her inferior officers."

At this very moment, there was no person(except maybe Naprem) that Isabel Kellis hated as much as Glinn Zolan.

Maybe, a long time ago, in her wrath, she had wanted for something like this to happen. Maybe she had wanted for Dukat to see that she was capable of cheating on him just the way he cheated on her. But now, when that was happening, she knew she didn't want it. She'd realized that the moment she'd seen him again after her first time with Damar…now she was completely sure of it.

Even though he wouldn't mind it, even though he saw her as nothing but his whore, Isabel couldn't bare the thought of his awereness of her unfaithfulness. For somehwere deep inside, one part of herself was still afraid…afraid that perhaps one _fraction_ of his being could possibly be hurt.

Isabel could've felt his eyes on her, even if he was looking away, those blue-grey pools she adored so much…she knew that he was wondering whether it was true or not. She was wondering, too, whether he cared at all.

However, as insignificant as that sounded compared to the former(now it wasn't even surprising to her), Isabel also felt the strong shot at her pride and dignity. Any private relationship of that sort, revealed at a meeting like this, was not proper in her eyes.

Trying her hardest to ignore panicking thoughts of what on Earth she was going to say to Dukat(he perhaps wouldn't care, but she couldn't go on without explaining this to him), she relented at Zolan's last remark.

"I'm sure it would not be inappropriate for the second in command of the station to assign her inferior officer to a duty less pleasant than his current one." Her voice raised dangerously, the threat visible on her face. She was ready to move Zolan to waste extraction with pleasure.

However, although Zolan did flinch slightly, and she was very certain of what she was ready to do, they both knew that nobody was going to do anything…not even leave this room, before Dukat made a comment on this entire situation.

Isabel was well aware that she had to look at him. And she knew that he was going to look into her eyes, the way he always did…yet he wasn't going to reveal anything to her if he didn't want to. Isabel trembled on the inside, delaying the turning of her head , fully conscious of the fact that in his eyes she was going to see how he felt about this.

Frankly, she didn't know what she wanted to see.

If she saw nothing, nothing at all, flat emotionlessness, then she would know he didn't mind this…but she would also know he didn't love her. Not that she wasn't already introduced to that…still, reminders of it were all but pleasant.

If she, on the other hand, saw some wavering in his eyes, it would mean he cared for her, and that would've made her the happiest woman in the universe. Yet it would also mean this had hurt him…which was the last of her wishes.

The debate was still going on within her head when she faced him, trying her hardest to conceal what she felt(unsuccesfully).

As expected, their eyes locked. Dukat appeared to be surprised…his look bordered with an amount surprise and slight amusement. As if he was wondering…why Damar? A small part of Isabel was pleased…he wondered what had he done wrong for her to run off to a mere Glen. _It might entice him to change, to make things the way they had been before_. Then there was that cursed part of her that wanted to rush to him and reassure him he couldn't ever do anything wrong, that there was no one better than him in her eyes.

All she did was remain standing, unable to look away. He must've read her like a book, the guilt, the pain, the hurt. She prayed to God he hadn't taken it for love, terrified that it could lead to him getting rid of her. More hatred for Zolan for having her exposed so vulnerably by this surprise attack rose in her rapidly.

Finally, Dukat seperated his gaze from her, turning to Zolan. Isabel barely prevented her chin from lowering and leading her to look at the floor, taking every effort to keep it as high up as possible. The anger helped.

"It might not be fully appropriate for a senior officer to have relations with those under their command…" Unless you happen to be the Prefect, of course, Isabel reflected, nearly smiling a bitter smile.

In a fraction of a second, it hit her.

_Dukat had to mind this_. The realization nearly made the station spin under her feet. How stupid she'd been! How incredibly blind. Of course he was going to mind it…maybe he wouldn't have, had it only been about the two of them.

But the entire station knew about her and Dukat. That fact had been present so long that she had begun to take it as normal, for granted, nothing that could do any damage. Yet now, by revealing the fact…by finding out…that she had been sleeping with Damar, Zolan had uncovered a humiliation for Dukat. He was doubtlessly going to spread the word, and then the entire station is going to gossip about the Prefect of Bajor's mistress cheating on him with Glen Damar.

_How stupid, stupid, stupid I am!_ She more minded the fact that she had humiliated Dukat than whatever blow to her this represented.

"…But it is also not within the parameters of proper to bring out such facts on official meetings…especially not for an inferior officer to Intendant Kellis." Dukat spoke with a firm voice, and Zolan knew immediately he hadn't won. Isabel drew scarcely a recognizable amount of pleasure from that. Her life had really suddenly taken a turn for the worse…each good thing was followed by a million of bad ones.

"I believe this matter and this meeting are both concluded."

Everyone agreed, and they all turned towards the door to leave. Isabel was ready to follow right after Odo, and to spend another lonely night in her quarters.

Funny, how a year ago she had been an enthusiastic young woman, with a wonderful future before her. Now, exactly twelve months later, she was getting ready to spend her first anniversary alone, sad and gloomy, torn apart by love never to be returned. Oh, how wonderful her dreams and hopes, her predicitons had been back then, with chance and luck as her best friends…now, they seemed to have turned and stabbed her back…ironical it was, how she'd thought of that very thing in the turbolift ride to Dukat's office that day.

How she recalled everything…

"Intendant…a word, if you would not mind it."

Isabel felt as if a lightning bolt had hit her.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she tried to fight off all the surprise that filled her. The last time they had actually _talked_…was quite a few months ago. Actually, she could not remember when they'd last had a decent conversation in private.

Perhaps she was going to have something to be thankful to Zolan for by the--

_No. Don't give yourself false hopes._

Dukat was probably going to ask her to refrain from sleeping with Damar further, or at least warn her to keep it more private. If he did throw in anything else, it was going to be that she should watch his reputation. All of it was going to, naturally, be said in a strictly offical tone. Then he was going to dismiss her, and return to his life, thinking of his Naprem, not giving her another second of his attention.

Swallowing deeply, Isabel spun around, just as the door closed behind Zolan.

They were alone.

It still thrilled her, after all the time, after all that had been. HE still thrilled her. She loved him as strongly as ever. He could do whatever he wanted, he could slit her throat, he could choke her, he could ruin her…she would never hold it against him. He was like poison running through her veins. And _she _would do anything for the tall, dark-haired, bue-eyed Gul standing before her.

They were both silent for a couple of seconds, staring each other down, pondering over what to say. Isabel decided she was going to remain completely silent until he said what he had on his mind. The only words that came to her lips(looking at him like this) weren't among ones he would've wanted to hear.

Dukat broke the silence, moving a step closer to her. She tried her hardest to remain completely still. Tears were on their way to her eyes; watching the only thing she wanted in her entire life and couldn't have here, alone with her, at her arm's length, yet so far, far away.

"It is your anniversary today, Intendant, if I recall correctly."

Her eyebrows raised slightly, hope again born in her heart. Was it possible…? He did remember. Did he actually devote a second more of his time than when they were together to her? There was nothing she could've, in reality, hoped for. But she felt slightly more reassured when she replied; shortly, sorely.

"You do."

He flinched slightly at her intonation, a half-smile forming on his face.

"I do." He inclined his head, "Just as I now know you repay me very nicely for all I do for you by going to sleep with _Damar_."

Too good to be true, it had been.

Her lips turned into a thin line, and Isabel looked away rapidly. Something like this had been another option. A not so official warning to watch out for his reputation. At least it was most likely going to end quickly.

The most difficult feeling to handle was remorse for ever going to Damar. For making it all even more difficult for herself than it already was. For being unfaithful to Dukat, mostly.

When he saw she wasn't going to say a word, Dukat approached her further, his expression unreadable.

"I thought we had developed a better friendship than that, Intendant……I believed that the Prefect of Bajor was enough to you…Isabel."

She hadn't heard him call her name since forever, and she shuddered at the sound. Abruptly, she wanted to kiss him, to say how sorry she was, how she had never intended for this outcome to occur. The only reason she didn't do so was because she was afraid he'd push her away, reject her and dispose of her. She had to let him have this _his way_. ..whatever that was.

It was nearly miraculous, how he had killed all the pride within her. Even if he hit her now, it wouldn't have hurt, as long as he touched her, as long as she felt his skin against hers. Isabel shut her eyes closed, not wanting him to see the tears, that were beyond being stopped now. After all he had done for her, indeed…hurt her, made her cry and spend long, sleepless nights alone…stopped giving her a time of the day…and she still believed she owed him a lot.

As if on cue, Dukat extended his hand and caressed her cheek gently with it, removing a strand of her black hair. Even through all her pain and hurt, the joy that mere concept brought reached her and managed to touch her.

But she kept crying.

Dukat only noticed it half on his way to her lips, his other arm already wrapping around her shoulders. It stopped on her right one, and everything went quiet again. Isabel knew what had happened-something she had been desperately trying to avoid ever since the last time he'd seen her cry; ever since she'd told him she loved him. Last time, it had not ended up well, her revealing such emotions to him. It had led to her finding out about Naprem. Yet now it had already happened again, and all she could do was wait.

Dukat remembered that previous event very well.

That was why he stopped.

Was he going to let this continue? Months ago, he had decided that their relationship would have to end the moment Isabel would ask for anything more than being a mere comfort woman. If they went on now, was that going to happen? It surely would be a shame.

She wasn't asking for anything _yet_. She was merely crying…but as soon as it had gotten that far, there was a danger present of her revealing it all to him just like she'd done that day. And then…she would ask for something more. He could never give her anything more. Should he take the risk?

Why was he thinking of it anyway_? Of course_ he was going to take the risk…just as Isabel was going to remain silent. She knew very well that there was the possibility of him leaving her if she said a word about it. That certainly wasn't something s_he'd_ have risked, now was it?

Dukat wondered why didn't he simply give up on her. Why had he wondered whether to take the risk or not. Maybe because she had always been perfect. One weakness was something he could allow her. Especially if he mended it quickly.

"Isabel, what is wrong?"

The concern in his voice didn't make her open her eyes; she didn't want him to see them red and puffy. She relished in the feeling of him touching her, only wishing it had happened under different circumstances.

She had to answer his question; she couldn't remain silent forever. However, if she spoke, she knew her voice was going to break.

What was wrong? Isabel could've written an essay on that topic and given it to him. And she wanted it; she wanted to tell him everything that was on her heart. But she couldn't, he had been right about that; she couldn't take the risk of losing him.

When no answer came for a few seconds, Dukat gently pulled her closer to him, embracing her.

In his arms again, leaning against his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling his uniform against her, Isabel felt better right away. She felt she was entering an illusion again; an illusion she had been living in that had kept her alive. A delusion that he cared.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, almost unconsciously, "I'm sorry about Damar…I'm sorry about everything…" The biggest irony was that she wasn't lying.

"We all make mistakes, Isabel." He still didn't let go of her, and that more than just suited her, "Even perfect, beautiful ladies like yourself."

It surprised her that he didn't ask any further questions…tha he didn't want to know why…but it was better that way. Her tears drying, she realized what had just happened; they'd had a decent conversation. He hadn't reprimanded her for doing damage to his reputation, he'd held her and comforted her. Even complimented her like he'd used to do before. He'd called her perfect.

Maybe, she thought, as he moved away slightly and planted a kiss on her lips, maybe things were going to be better again.


	14. Overindulgence

Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

"_Bajor_?"

Isabel Kellis exclaimed, a broad smile on her face.

Pleasure came unmistakably with the regaining of the ability to smile like that. Seven weeks ago, she couldn't have done so even if she'd wanted to. Plus she had had no reason whatsoever to smile. The fact that she had the reason now was cause enough for her lips to curve up.

Things had indeed taken a turn for the better between her and Dukat. That very evening, he had taken her to the holosuites, to a perfect, Risian sunset and dinner, with the unavoidable boquet of roses. Dancing, of course, hadn't been omitted. He had been perfectly charming during their entire date, and it hadn't taken long for her to catch on. Pretty soon, they had ended up in his quarters, again making love with passion. Isabel felt all her powers had returned to her, not to that extent as before she'd found out about Naprem, but when compared to the way they'd been during the time he'd scarcely paid any attention to her, it was brilliant.

She began to gain on weight(positively), and now already looked healthy. The constant tantrums were slowly replaced by the confidence, the wittyness and the charm. The original Isabel Kellis wasn't back, not by far margin. But after tasting what she called on the inside as 'worse from the worst', she had learned to appreciate the worst. Not appreciate…tolerate. In other words, she was thankful that Dukat talked to her at all, liked to think(lull herself into believing, perhaps?) that he genuinely cared for her, and yearned for him to love her.

Every day, every hour, she would encounter clues that would lead her to one of the last two options and point in the completely opposite directions. Trying to ignore that was among the hardest things she'd experienced in her life, and it only remained at that…trying. Being indifferent, getting used to her situation was impossible for her. She tried not to bother herself with that, which was just as impossible. It was a constant thorn in her side…one she was ready to endure, no matter how much it took out of her. For the sake of Dukat and the little pleasures they shared together…the greatest pleasure being he and his presence.

Undoubtedly the best thing that had happened to her(during these last few 'good' weeks) by now was this; Dukat taking her to a four-day trip to Bajor.

Usually, he'd kept her on the station. Actually, he had never before taken her anywhere off Terok Nor. He'd had plenty of chances, all right…but he must have had other businesses to attend to. Using every little piece of strength she had, she tried not to think of the fact that Naprem was probably somewhere on Bajor.

Dukat laughed, letting his right arm drop softly around her shoulders.

"Your pleasure is my eternal happiness, Intendant."

Calling each other by rank had turned into a game of theirs, one they both enjoyed.

"I haven't told you I'm satisfied _yet._" Isabel smirked, looking at him coyly underneath her eyebrows, "And I won't…not until you tell me what exactly we are going to do on Bajor."

She curled her legs next to herself on the sofa in his quarters, leaning against him. They'd been sitting like this for nearly an hour, and only now had he chosen to reveal the surprise to her. Maybe he'd only made it up now? Or he'd truly had it planned? She believed the latter was correct. Dukat simply knew how to do the right thing in the right moment when it came to charming her. And other things, also, only none of that mattered to her as much.

"To begin with something…" Dukat started, "We are going to spend a lot of time in my…_our_ quarters…."

"Nice." She cut in silently.

"There will be other places as well, of course."

"Nicer." She beamed.

"And there will be nobody and nothing to bother us…save for Odo."

"The nicest!" Isabel laughed, climbing into his lap; "Did you plan this for us only?"

"Yes, I did." Dukat pulled her closer, kissing her, "The rest of the station knows nothing of it...I had not even bothered with presenting them with a false reason for our departure."

"You don't have to…because you're the Prefect." Isabel kissed him again, feeling very good. As she looked into his eyes, she still saw Naprem, but she was easier to block. He was being so nice to her, pampering her with such wonderful things…he had to care for her. At least a little bit.

Odo was not at all satisfied with the news about the trip to Bajor. What bothered him was not the trip itself(although he was certain the station was going to suffer a decrease of security efficency, and that Quark was going to take good advantage of that situation). The Constable only looked with dislike upon the nature of the journey.

Gul Dukat and Isabel were going to spend four days there, for their own pleasures only. No man, humanoid or changeling(as he'd recently found out the harder way, by experiencing it on his own skin) would have exactly thrived for the duty of protecting a woman he held more than just interest in and her lover while they were consuming their relationship. Odo could've only wished he was an exception.

However, there was no way a word of that was ever going to reach Dukat and Isabel. Not from his, and not from anybody's lips. Not if Quark valued his own life.

The Prefect's personal shuttle had been beyond repair after that assasination attempt nine months ago or so. A new one had been ordered directly from Cardassia Prime. Odo had had security inspect it thoroughly, before relieving them back to their duties and issuing final orders to Denad.

He'd opposed fiercely, if nothing, Dukat's decision to take him and him only along. For one, it was truly(as he'd argumented) not enough security forces for the Prefect of Bajor and the Federation Intendant to Bajor. He, perhaps, was capable and did his duties well, but he didn't have as many eyes to be able of providing proper guard. Secondly, Odo would've found it much easier to be able to have guards stand guard, while he himself sought refugee further away from Isabel and Dukat, yet close enough to be able to hear if anything of importance occurred.

Dukat dismissed all of his arguments, repeating he had complete confidence in Odo, and that he wanted privacy for the Intendant and himself.

"It is a rather delicate matter, our relationship's secrecy, wouldn't you agree?"

Such a statement had brought Odo to another question; how came he was taking Isabel to Bajor now? He'd never come up with that idea before, and Odo knew why. Tora Naprem was on Bajor. Together with Tora Ziyal. Dukat had divided hist time and his territory between Isabel and Naprem. Terok Nor was the reign of the former, while the latter had Bajor(only that the first_ literally_ had it, while the second was being overruled on her planet). Something big must have happened that he had chosen to override that division.

Odo knew Dukat loved Naprem and didn't love Isabel. Had he had a fight with Naprem, then? Maybe this was his way of repaying her for whatever she'd done? If so, they would come to terms soon, as they always did. There was no doubt about that.

What if, though…what if it was something else? What if he had begun to_ love_ Isabel? Or perhaps she'd complained about not being given enough attention, or requested a visit to the planet. That was a lot easier to get along with, so Odo(surprisingly) chose it; the more optimistic option.

"Ah, Odo!" Dukat's voice was cheerful as he stepped into the shuttle. At Odo's relief, he wasn't accompanied by Isabel, "Ready as always, aren't you?"

Odo nodded curtly; "The Intendant will not be joining us yet, I take?"

Dukat waved his hand, sitting down into a chair, "You know the Intedant, Odo. She always has to look her best." He paused, going on with an egotistic smile, "Especially for me."

Once again, the Constable merely nodded, staring into the blank wall.

He wanted to ask Dukat about what was on his mind, he wanted to ask him about the reason of him taking Isabel to Bajor. Odo knew where they were going; their destination was the house in which Dukat had kept Naprem not so terribly long ago. He wanted to know why, and usually wouldn't have hesitated to ask the question openly. Now, he had a secret to protect, though, and didn't want to appear unnaturally interested at any cost.

Dukat must have noticed Odo looked different, because he craned his neck, staring at him sharply.

"Odo…is something wrong with you?"

Taken by surprise, the Constable shifted uncomfortably on his feet. It took him little time to realize this could've been the perfect opportunity to mention what he wanted to do without appearing as if he'd been the one to start it. He jumped at the opportunity, perhaps a tad too eagerly, but he'd hidden it well.

"I…was merely wondering about something." He halted, waiting for signs to stop from Dukat. He'd gotten none, and he also turned around to see whether the Intendant was coming. She wasn't.

"The Intendant and you seem to be progressing rather fine with your—relationship." Odo lingered, "Fine enough for you to bring her to the very house where you'd kept…Naprem…not so long ago."

He went silent, feeling that enough had been said, and watched Dukat's reaction.

He'd expected the Prefect to show his common amusement, they way he usually would whenever Odo would ask a question of that sort. Instead, Gul Dukat's face was enveloped by an expression more simillar to _be_musement. Meaning that there _was_ something more, some further cause to this. Odo was all but pleased by that, hoping that Dukat would explain. Pleasantry wasn't exactly brought to him by the concept of Isabel and Dukat's relationship advancing to more serious terms.

Dukat's puzzled expression only had a brief duration, and his grin was back in a matter of seconds. When he spoke, his voice was as smooth as ever, as if nothing at all had occurred. This meant Odo had to pretend it had been like that as well.

"The Intendant is a very special woman that requires a lot of attention. Attention from which both she and I benefit greatly." The pause indicated he hadn't finished yet, "As for Naprem…you know very well I had her moved from that house to a larger and a more suitable one. That is all you need to know, too."

The last part carried an imperious authority, leading the Constable far away from pursuing the topic any further. Dukat might've trusted Odo, even discussed his private life with him, but when he said no, it meant no. Anyone knew better than to question that.

"Constable…Prefect." Isabel Kellis' voice was as cheerful as Dukat's had been upon her entrance.

At least something was going for the better; Odo had noticed a considerable improvement in Isabel's entire demanour. She looked healthier, more confident and her eyes had managed to reclaim some of that glint. Of course, he hated to think it had anything to do with Dukat beginning to pay her more and more attention.

Averting his eyes as they kissed, Odo waited for the command to release the docking clamps and get moving. The sooner they were through with this, the better.

The house on Bajor was wonderful. Isabel had seen plenty of nice places, but this suited her more than any of those ever had. It might've also had to do with the company that shared the house with her.

It was far away from anyone or anything living; on a tall, secluded mountain in the Rakantha Province. The view from the balcony and the bedroom windows was spectacular, offering a vast landscape that simply burst before one's eyes, leaving them breathless. As if Dukat on his own didn't take out enough fo her breath, Isabel had to cope with this as well.

Decorated with oldfashioned furniture, it was also practical, with every necessity one could've counted. She forced herself not to think how had he come up with a place as suited for lovers within that short an amount of time, focusing instead on the surprise that had waited for her in the bedroom.

A grand armoire made of finest wood was what Dukat had carried her to(before they'd entered, he'd lifted her onto his arms), urging her to open it. Once she did, her jaw simply dropped; it was filled with the nicest, the most stylish dresses she'd seen in her life. And she was known for her good styling.

Colors varied from red to black, but there was not a trace of some(for example, orange) she utterly despised. Passing them all excitedly with her hands, Isabel turned around, to see Dukat standing there with a satisfied grin on his face. He looked so irresistable. And he was. He was the most charming person she'd met, she was certain of that. She didn't know _what _she'd do if she ever lost him.

"It is nice to see you smile." Duakt remarked, realizing this was one of the very, very rare moments when he saw Isabel smiling like that, without any trace of coy, playfulness or seduction…naturally beaming.

He found himself taken aback at how attractive he found that.

"You surely know how to _make m_e smile." _And you could remember to do that more often. _Isabel made a rushed step towards him, landing gracefully into his arms. The Prefect once again felt her happiness, literally, and heeded it made him want to make her happier and happier. A sense of accomplishment streamed through him--

… just as any time he would suceed in one of his games of charming.

Caressing her lips with his, letting their tongues interwine, Dukat reached back into his mind for the memories of that day when she'd told him how much she loved him. It had been, in spite of all, quite incredible, listening to the description of the great effect he had left on Miss Kellis. Espcially when considering the fact she had known how to remain silent about those feelings in future. She had known it was the only way their relationship could go on. Oh, yes, certainly, he could tell her he loved her. He had done that with women before. But Isabel had understood that he would've been lying to her with such admissions. And her heart most likely, he mused, could not have borne it...and he would hurt her even more…

_What am I thinking?_

Dukat disposed of those thoughts right away. It was time to focus on Isabel and the quickest way to remove her dress, not on her inner psychological state. She was happy now, yes, and that was what mattered. He had been ignoring her over the past months, because she had become part of his routine. Any lady would have disliked that, especially one in love. Now, he had to convince her it had changed.

And he was capable of being very convincing.

Overall, Dukat knew what he was doing. Things people did with women of the Intendant's sort…they were toys, nothing more, just as she, now, as he pushed her against the bed. A toy worth keeping, most certainly. A very amusing, enchanting toy. But still just a plaything.

She might have perceived him in a simillar way at the beginning of their relationship. Presently, he was much, much more to her, though. Some would have claimed it was dangerous to trifle with the heart of a woman in love_. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. _But he felt safe enough.

Isabel would never be capable of hurting him, since she loved him too much. She didn't know about Naprem, and therefore could not hurt her or Ziyal. Besides, giving up would have been as if dropping a perfectly exciting, challenging adventure. One that any Prefect could have used.

To cut the chase, Dukat was having fun. And he intended for it to remain that way.

Isabel, he pondered, was just like an intoxicating vintage. As he breathed in her scent, his lips trailing down her long neck, his fingers removing the pearls that hung there, the pearls he had given her, it did cross his mind that the consumation of such exotic vintages often resulted in overindulgence.

It was common knowledge what one was supposed to do when such a situation arose; throw away the bottle.

But it was also common knwoledge that once you were this deep in, it was nearly impossible to stop.


	15. Kanar, Kisses & Goodbyes

Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

The following morning, Isabel woke up to find out she was already alone.

It was not an unfamilliar event, so she paid as little attention as possible to the pang in her heart, and pushed away from the mattress. The Sun had already risen quite high, and had she been an expert on orientation and such things, she would have most likely concluded it was past ten. However, she was no expert, and she shrugged of the concept of time. That was what computers were for.

Yesterday, the usual had happened, and in spite of the lovely intro, Isabel still felt only shallow happiness. It was that kind of happiness she had grown to live for lately, though, so she embraced it with open arms. He had paid her enough attention to bring her to Bajor with him, solely so they could enjoy some time together. Of course that did not prove he loved her, but he had to at leat hold her in some regard.

_Why do I keep repeating that to myself?_

Ignoring the question her mind had asked, she got up from the bed, opening the armoire. The lovely dresses took quite an amount of her time, since she had always been among those who chose with difficulty. She had that instinct to grab whatever she saw beautiful in the same time. Only one seemed like a pitiful choice to her.

The yellow, strapeless dress hardly suited her mood(perhaps a paler version of yellow...extremely paled, would have)but it fell along her figure nicely, and she even uncovered a pair of sandals that went along with it. Isabel headed to the sonic shower in the bahtroom, washing her hair just as the rest of her body. It was refreshing, water pouring down her body. At least her mind was going to be clearer after this.

Once out of the shower, she jumped into her chosen dress and dried her raven locks. Picking a hairstyle hadn't been difficult; Isabel put it into an extravagant bun that had taken her at least half of an hour to make, leaving one strand hanging loosely by her face.

Satisfied with the way she looked, Isabel took a final twirl in front of the mirror, put on the sandals and descended to the dining room.

She was pleased to see that Odo was nowhere in sight, even though she wouldn't have minded his presence. What she minded was his attitude…his constant nagging and sarcastical remarks . There was no way of her and Dukat enjoying some time together with him constantly clearing his throat or butting in. As for the fact that he knew of their relationship…she couldn't have cared less for that. As far as she was concerned, the entire universe could've recognized her as Dukat's…what? Toy? Mistress?

_Dukat's_ was quite enough.

He was sitting at the head of the table, which was empty-he must have already finished with his breakfast. Upon her entrance, his head turned in her direction and he gave her a flash of his irresistable smile. Isabel returned it completely sure she never could've matched the birlliance of his original. Not even with her prefect acting that lied behind almost each and every content gesture she made.

"Intendant." Dukat greeted, "You've finally decided to honor me with your presence."

"I have?" Her eyebrow raised at the teasing in his tone, "You wouldn't mind telling me what time it is, then?"

"10:06 exactly." He cuckled, shaking his head, "You've certainly slept for a long time."

"That is more than twelve hours." Isabel said in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. No wonder she felt refreshed. Blinking, she was about to head to the replicator and get herself some food. As she was passing by him, Dukat suddenly extended his arm, pulling her onto his lap and passionately kissing her on the lips.

"What was that for?" She whispered as he pulled away, still basking in the wonderful feeling, "Sleeping in?"

"Do I need to justify my kisses to you, Isabel?"

Mock authority dripped from his words. Isabel did not return in the same measure, but merely grinned, the way people do when in love or enchanted. She was both.

"No, sir. And that is why I…" The halt was nearly too long. No certainity lied in whether saying it would have been a wise choice. Then again, since when was she wise? If she did say it, in a mock way, he would take it as such, and not as anything serious…and he would return in the same measure, wouldn't he? And then she would at least hear those words, even though unsincere, coming from his mouth.

"…adore you."

She carefully avoided the word 'love'.

Isabel was unsure if the silence that came afterwards was fictive, in her imagination, or real. Dukat seemed to have stared at her for a few moments longer than normal, and she certainly froze in anticipation of his reaction.

Then he pulled her closer, leaning his head against hers, smirking and whispering into her ear.

"I love you, too."

After that, all resumed normally, Isabel not strong enough and unwilling to mention anything else at all. She had finally gotten what she had wanted ever since she had laid her eyes upon him, even if only subconsciously. She'd heard him say those words to her, and it felt so nice. But if she had belived that would erase the pain…she had never been as wrong.

It went away for a brief second, to return multiplied by million.

Now she knew how it was to hear him say it. And she also knew how Naprem felt when he said it…but meant it. No, she did _not know_ that…she could have only guessed about it. What hurt was that Naprem _knew_ it.

Shutting her eyes, trying to shut out the hurt, Isabel let him kiss her, when a voice, swiftly, casually, interrupted them from behind.

"Gul Dukat. Madam Intendant."

Annoyance would have flooded her, had it not been for the other, terrible feeling taking up all of her emotional capacity. Blankly, she turned around to land her eyes upon Constable Odo.

Dukat could handle him. Even though she was feeling quite blunt at the moment, she still would have preferred remaining with Dukat. She certainly would not have liked him to leave. And she had a premonition Odo was going to ask exactly that.

"Odo." Dukat spoke faltly, with an edge of irritation, placing Isabel to sit more straight on his lap, "What is it now?"

_Don't make him go away, Odo._

Isabel's silent prayer was in vain, for that was exactly what the Constable did.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but there is an urgent communication for you." His eyes focused ineptly on Dukat's, "It is _urgent_."

Dukat seemed to have been inspecting Odo's eyes, and Isabel didn't fail to see the ever-so-slight nod Odo produced.

The Prefect pushed her up promptly , raising from the seat himself.

"I apologize, my dear…I will be back shortly."

She sought for no answers on his face, which held no trace of concern or worry, only the usual charming smirk. It was more like a mask, conveying what he wished for it to convey. Isabel had found all the responses she needed in the brief exchange of looks between him and Odo.

Naprem had called, she knew it, and the pain completely taking away her capabilites of self-delusion, she could not believe what she wished to believe; that it was something else. Someone else.

Odo gave Isabel a long look, before departing after Dukat himself.

The Intendant waited for the doors to close behind them, and for all sound to die, before she turned towards the window and closed her eyes, letting tears find their way underneath them.

Of course, Isabel, she said to herself. _Of course_. He had left as soon as Naprem had called, he had reacted upon her slightest whim. He had left HER for Naprem right away. Compared to the Bajoran, she must have represented nothing more than…nothing to him. Hell, he hadn't even thought of declining Naprem's communication(and he did know it was from her) to remain with Isabel.

Could she have truly expected anything else?

Oh, how she cursed her nature! The human nature never to be satisfied with what they had, always striving for more. She wished that she could simply be satisfied with being Dukat's whore, and not wishing to be anything else. She even tried to convince herself that she had gotten that 'else'…that she had heard him say he loved her.

Yet there was still the knowledge he hadn't meant it.

A few minutes ago, she would have given anything just to hear the _acted _sentence.

Leaning against the window frame, burying her head into her hands, Isabel let out a few short sobs. It was good they'd come by , those short moments of relief, she knew as soon as her head was high up in the air again. Because she was not foing to let them occur again soon.

_Dukat would not want a crying, lovesick ninny._

It was enough motivation to dry her tears.

* * *

Odo knew that something extremely negative had happened as soon as he had gotten the transmission _here_. Rare people had been entrusted with exactly where Dukat and Isabel would be spending these four days. Among them were Glinn Rusot(who had replaced Zolan after that one unfortunate incident), Glen Damar(Odo believed Dukat had chosen it to be him solely because of awareness of Isabel's previous involvement with him) and himself. Odo was certain Dukat would not have informed that one person he should've hidden his relationship with Intendant Kellis from of where the two of them would be during their little vacation.

According to the descriptions Odo had been provided with, that person would have understood perfectly that Dukat could not have remained faithful to her constantly. Still, the Constable sincerely doubted Dukat had openly told her he would be enjoying the privileges of the Intendant's body in the house where she and their child had been quite recently. No woman could have taken such news without at least a little bit of pain and jealousy(from what he'd managed to learn about humanoids). And the last thing Dukat would've wanted was to hurt Tora Naprem.

The shape-shifter stood at a polite distance from the door, positioning it out of his hearing range. Had he wanted to eavesdrop, he would have shape-shifted into the room and heard every word of the conversation. The latter being none of his concern, he decided it was better he heard nothing at all. In the end, he believed Dukat was going to let him know what had happened, and how exactly Naprem had found out he was here.

Inside the room, Dukat sat at a desk, on which was installed a computer console.

Over the screen of the console spread the face of a woman that couldn't have been older than mid-thirties. She possessed delicate features, that gave her a fragile and a gentle look. Her hair was long and of an extremely light shade of red, reaching to her shoulders. A pair of dark blue eyes which resembled two deep oceans were set quite apart underneath thin, straight eyebrows. The high cheekbones and the pouty lips made were the highlights of her beauty(objectively, she could not have been judged as an overly handsome woman). The part of her especially dear to Dukat was her long, thin neck.

Usually, one of the numerous necklaces he had given her hung around it. Now, there was nothing. As a matter of fact, her entire appearance seemed pretty ungroomed. Her hair was falling freely around her head, but it looked uncombed, and from what Dukat could've seen, the dress she wore more resembled one of those she'd had when he'd first seen her than any of those he'd gifted her with.

Most unorderly, a look of determination and traces of ire were plastered upon her oval face.

"My dear," Dukat opted for a nonchalant greeting, even though his instincts and better judgement were screaming at him something was off, "How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Dukat." She replied dryly,quickly, without even a hint of affection, "I believe that you can not."

Surprise swept over his features at such plain coldness, and he forced himself to look over the woman once more. Was this truly his Naprem? Or had someone else taken her appearance?

Something truly drastical must have happened to had altered her behaviour to this manner. The first thought that bolted through his mind was that she had found out about Isabel. But within a millisecond, the validity of that reason began to fade. He could've clearly recalled the last conversation they'd shared, during which they had discussed one Bajoran comfort woman that had gotten quite deeply involved with a certain Gul. Apparently, the lady had requested that he stopped seeing all of his other women. She'd ended up left without even a roof over her head. Naprem had scolded her behavior severly, claiming that it was crystal clear to her _he_ would sleep with other women during involvement with her. They would mean nothing to him, but they would serve for pleasure only when she would not be there. Women like Isabel.

A part of him winced at the last line.

Women like Isabel. He should not have used that expression. Women like Isabel should've been, perhaps. Women that gave their body and nothing else as a source of pleasure. Isabel had quite stepped over the line of usual comfort women. Not a line he had drawn, though. It was the risk of such a position, falling in love with your…client? Master? What was he to her? Sponsor was the most accurate term, he believed. Anyway, had she been as professional as she should have been, she would have never begun experiencing those feelings. He had to admit they did make her a lot more fun then all the other women to his ego, though.

Guilt had hit him right away, as soon as he'd realized that he had actually been thinking of Isabel during a conversation that clearly showed something was wrong with Naprem. Shaking his head inwardly, he fixed all of his attention on the woman before him. The mother of his daughter. _His love._

Yet he had told Isabel he loved her a few moments ago.

Dukat had until recently believed he had sorted out and separated his feelings for the two ladies months ago, in the Infirmary of Terok Nor. He, his heart and his mind had come to an agreement that it was impossible to love both of the women. They were extremely different. Anything at all he might've felt for Isabel he'd attached to the fact that she was so much like him. They simply went along well, never ran out of topics, always saw eye to eye on nearly all subjects…etcetera, etcetera.

Naprem had his child. And she had been with him through all the good and the bad times ever since they had met. She was caring, understanding, with a certain level of empathy he believed Isabel could never have found in her nature. To top it all, he simply loved her. He'd begun to take that for a fact more than an emotion over the last years.

However, after a certain amount of time had passed, Dukat's affection for Isabel had begun to grow.

Each time she would come to his quarters, with that grin, that laughter, that coy personality, eager to please him and do all he said, he would have felt qzite content with himself and his own rate of success. Sometimes, though, he would see her love displayed out in the open, when her cover would fail under the influence of _kanar_ or his kisses, and would begin to experience such thoughts as he had had yesterday. A few weeks later, he had even started to develop an appreciation for all the efforts she had been putting in remaining with him in spite of her awareness of Naprem.

Needless to say, such events were more than just highly uncharacteristic for him. It had not taken him long to realize that Isabel had a certain effect on him, and effect he did not or did not WANT to recognize. But he had had a pretty good idea of the direction in which it had been heading.

So he'd distanced himself from her the best he could have, urging himself to either spend the time talking to Naprem or working. During that time, he'd gone along with pretending he hadn't been seeing the changes that had taken place on the Intendant. He'd gone along with striving not to care at all. He had succeeded, or had thought he had. The Intendant once again left him quite emotionless when he would have happened to meet her.

The anger he'd felt when Zolan had informed him about Damar and Isabel had been an overwhelming astoundment. The fact that she had slept with another man, the fact that someone else had held her in his arms bothered him a lot more than he would've ever believed(or wanted) it possible. Again, he let his ego take the guilt for that.

When she had apologized to him, when she'd promised it would never happen again...only then had it hit him that he actually felt sympathy for all the she had suffered during the months of his ignoring, for how eager she had been for every little bit of his attention. And then, he'd decided to make it up to her. As soon as she left the breifing room, he once again was certain he had only reached that decision because he wanted to keep her for lust.

Today, he had told her he loved her.

Had it meant anything?

He had realized that Isabel _did not need_ Naprem's empathy, because she understood him even without it.

As if they were made for each other.

But that did not mean he loved her. He most certainly did not. Even yesterday, he had thought of her as a toy--

"….told her that you would get rid of us sooner or later. She came home crying and--" Dukat only became aware that Naprem had been retelling him some event when she'd already gone on about it for a few minutes. By the time he raised his eyes questioningly to meet hers, she realized he hadn't been listening and halted reproachingly.

Dukat sighed shortly, apologetically; "I am sorry, my dear, my mind was light years away." More like a few rooms away, he thought as he smiled quickly, "Would you, please, repeat what you were saying?"

Naprem nodded. By now, she had calmed down slightly, and went on at a slower pace, more resembling her usual demeanour.

"Yesterday, Ziyal and I had gone to the nearby town to shop for some clothing." She shook off the look of protest that had begun forming on his face, "I know, I know you advised me against it, but she was so bored all alone in the house, and I felt she was safer with me. It turned out that she was…at least physically."

"What is that meaning of that?" Dukat's concern over his daughter shed a certain dose of darkness on his previous memories of Isabel, and the surprise over the fact that he had not _listened_ to _Naprem_ because of _Isabel._

Naprem averted her bleak gaze before speaking again.

"I'd decided to have a _raktajino_ with Mora Lianessa, a friend…one of the few that haven't forsaken me since…" She spread her hands, vaguely inclining around herself, implying at the current state of her entire life, "Ziyal remained with us at the table, but at a certain moment, she chose to go to a playground where Bajoran children were playing. I let her, seeing no harm in it…"

"What happened?" Dukat felt his patience gradually growing thinner. He could not have avoided a comparison; Isabel would have already provided him with the core of the story had it been a matter this important.

_Was he actually giving Isabel the advantage over Naprem?_

Even though he had made peace with the fact that he did not love, was it possible that he, somehow, LIKED her more? At the moment given, of course. Preferred her company…

Of course he still loved Naprem. Such a love could not have disappeared overnight. It certainly could not have been conquered by his _SLIGHT AFFECTION_ for Isabel, which had only begun its development a few months ago. He loved Naprem, all right.

"During our walk home, I noticed she was upset, and asked her about it…and she burst into tears, saying that the Bajoran children had told her her father, whoever he was, for she hadn't mentioned you, as I'd instructed her, would soon dispose of her, killing her."

The irate glow of her eyes told him exactly how much this matter had touched her. It would have touched him as well, had he been there. Even now, he would've gladly executed those Bajoran children for hurting his daughter in any way. Naprem surely knew that. But she just as surely had not contacted him to have him execute them or punish them. She, unlike Isabel, did not like such gifts.

No, there was something else besides anger there, on her. Doubt. Confusion. Insecurity?

It took Dukat little time to see that Naprem was worried he would, one day, do exactly as the Bajorans had foreseen.

Leaning in closer to the screen, he shook his head, "Naprem." He spoke caringly, "You _know_ that I would never harm you or Ziyal in any way."

Naprem's heavy eyelids closed over her eyes, and she exhaled longly. There were hints of exhaustion in that sigh, just as in her words.

"Honestly, Dukat…what _will_ you do when you have to leave Bajor or bring your family here? Will you take the risk of having an illegitimate child and a mistress so close, as a constant threat?"

Taken aback, Dukat drew back, blinking.

"Are you enticing me to kill you?" In spite of the careful shroud of amusement cast over his words, what Naprem had said had caused quite a reaction.

Because, as much as he hated admitting to it, she was telling a dangerous dose of truth. When they completely overpowered the Bajorans, his wife would eventually insist to bring his family over to Bajor. Providing he remained stationed here, of course. If not, if he went away from Bajor to Cardassia Prime to claim a higher rank for himself and advance further, Naprem and Ziyal would be rather unsafe on Bajor, and taking them with him would've been out of question due to numerous reasons. A threat to his reputation and career, yes, was among them.

If he was forced to leave Bajor, what would become of him and Isabel?

With his wife and family nearby, a relationship would be quite impossible. Oh, nothing was _impossible_, but a risk to both of their lives, careers and reputations. She would not be in a position as difficult as Naprem-Dukat had a hard time imagining Isabel ever as vulnerable as the Bajoran woman-but it could turn rather unpleasant for her. And him.

If he departed for Cardassia, the only possibility of them ever seeing each other again would be if he arranged a lot of 'diplomatic missions' for himself.

It would hardly matter whether Cardassia or even (now this was far from possible)Bajor won.

Either way_, they_ would lose in the end.

"No." A faint chuckle came from Naprem, pulling him out of his ponderings, "No." She swallowed deeply, closing her eyes once again. Upon opening, they were wet with tears she seemed to have been trying to hold back, unsuccessfully.

"I love you, Dukat, you know that. As impossible as some find it, I really, really do. Excatly because of that…I don't want to ever be faced with the possiblity of being used as a weapon against you."

"That will not happen, Naprem." His voice carried far more certainity than he truly felt.

"Don't tell me that. It's a lie, and we both know it. It will happen, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually…it will. And when it does…" She inhaled, "I don't want to be around to see it. I don't want to have to suffer the burden of your ruin. Not because of myself…but because of _you_. And for the sake of Ziyal."

The last part made him reconsider offering another empty reassurance. Halting, he eyed her, trying to find a reason, any reason for her to stay. It was clear what she was suggesting-to be sent away, somewhere out of the grasp of Cardassian politicans and the judging Bajorans. Out of_ his_ grasp.

Not many things were in his favor. For one, all she'd said was right. The Occupation would not last forever, and the Bajorans _would_ soon lose. Which meant he had little time.

"You must understand me, my love…I don't want to see you ruined. Especially not because of me."

The sorrow in her voice had not fully masked the same determination that he had seen at the beginning of their conversation. The proof she seriously meant it.

"I see." Dukat said rather resignedly, with an air of absence, but Naprem had his full attention, "So you wish to be sent away."

All he got in response was a violent nod.

"You don't have to do this, Naprem." He had to make an attempt, even if futile, "I--"

She butt in, not waiting for him to finish; "You would have sent us away at one point anyway."

An uncomfortable silence followed, during which none of them made a sound of either confirmation or negation. It was completely unnecessary. They both knew the answer was positive. Dukat would not and could not have kept them around forever, no matter how much he loved them.

"Cardassians simply function like that." Naprem broke the quietness. There was nothing cross in her statement, nothing even scolding. She said it matter-of-factly, as a simple aspect of his species. None of her personal opinions were involved.

Isabel knew how Cardassians functioned, too. And she loved that, as she had made it clear during their first dinner together. She always involved personal opinions, because she knew he would agree with them.

He remembred how he had thought that Naprem would always be better at fulfilling the position of the 'second lady' than Isabel. Indicators would say so. Now, though, he found that Isabel had actually coped perfectly with it…even without the promises of love Naprem had had as motivation. How she had remained with him, through all that turmoil of torture…it said more than any words could have.

She knew of the risks, too. But she never asked him to leave her because he would eventually have to do so. Isabel Kellis lived for the moment, and knew that she had to be satisfied with what little of him a mistress could gain. By him, she was satisfied.

Exactly why he was often inclined to wish to give her more and more.

"I will arrange for a transport to take you to Lissepia." He heard himself say, "In a week. I want to see you once again."

The small, sad smile that curved her lips would've been on his face as well, had he not set up the emotionless façade. A part of him already felt Naprem was already gone. As he ended the transmission, Dukat allowed his eyes to close. Astonishingly, the thought that most haunted him was not that of losing the woman he had loved for such a tremendously long time.

It was the dangerous premonition that one day, prehaps not so far into the future, the woman he'd be losing was going to be Isabel.

It hardly mattered which one he liked, loved, preferred or held more affection fore, he concluded. In the end, he would have to lose them both.


	16. The Funeral Of Hearts

SIX YEARS LATER-

**SIX YEARS LATER-**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"We are withdrawing."

Intendant Isabel Kellis closed her eyes, the words of Gul Dukat echoing in her skull as if he had shouted them into her ear instead of stating them flatly from the other side of his office.

The pain did not, as she had expected, come first. And, oh, she had expected this. She had been expecting it for the past six years, ever since her life had taken a sudden turn for the better on Bajor that day. Not only had she been expecting it. Isabel had been fearing it. _Dreading_ it. Whenever she would've been happy, a mere flash of it and gloominess would have found a way in. Enjoying, living for the moment came along quite heavily with the constant knowledge that one day, and relatively soon, it would all finish.

Initially, Isabel had praised the Lord for merely allowing her the luxury of having Dukat pay attention to her constantly. That had taken some amount of getting used to and actually believing it, but soon, the shadow of Naprem left the two of them alone. Never had it been as if she hadn't existed, though. Every now and then, Isabel would've caught that distant look in Dukat's eyes, and she would know who was occupying his mind.

She had never asked him about it. It was relieving to know that Naprem was not a part of his life anymore. Isabel knew it, from the bottom of her heart. Relieving enough for her gratefulness to allow him to keep an undisturbed, brief part of her existence in his mind. Whatever had happened to her was beside the point. Restraining curiosity hadn't been easy for Isabel. Luckily, Dukat had provided more than enouhg motivation for that, even by his mere appearance by her side, day by day. As always.

Eventually, the bond of trust between them had grown stronger and stronger. One day, during a dinner, they'd reached the aforementioned subject through one not quite related to it. It had begun with Isabel re-telling her day. A Bajoran had asked her for a brief chat with his beloved in ore processing for her birthday. She had checked all the data, and it truly was her birthday. She decided it would be alright to allow something to the Bajorans once, so she said yes, assigning them two guards for supervision.

They returned fifteen minutes later, dragging the Bajoran with them. One of them hurriedly explained to Isabel that he had, apparently, taken out a sharp metal and cut his girlfriend's throat. She'd died instanteneously. Isabel doubted that, since she was well-aware they'd probably not bothered to give her medical attention. Putting that aside, she looked at the Bajoran, rather intrigued by the entire story. Henal Mirha would've been…had been…twenty-two. He'd decided to murder her for her birthday. He would be executed, of course, for he had displayed insubordinate behavior, but before that, she wished to hear his story.

The guards waited outside, and apparently, the Bajoran was quite eager to share his reasons with the Intendant. He probably wished to either delay his death, or simply for his tale to be heard. Or maybe he hoped for mercy. Which he would not get, but there had been no reason to inform him of that and prevent him from speaking.

Henal Mirha had been his fiancee, not only girlfriend, for six years. Three years ago, she had been taken as a comfort woman by the Cardassians. He openly admitted he was in the Resistance, an awfully stupid move, since it meant she was going to sign him up for torture. Again eliding it, Isabel listened to him tell a touching story of how they had kept in correspondence, while she served the Cardassians in all ways possible. Isabel made a mental note to always rely on the stupidity of the Bajorans, as she prodded him to tell her more and more of the ways the Resistance kept in touch with people of the station. Once he was finished, she had plenty of information for Odo, Denad and Damar.

Mirha had become pregnant with the Cardassian she had been assigned to two months ago. As soon as he found out, Glinn Rusol got rid of her, casting her into ore processing.

"And you killed her…because she shamed you by her collaborative ways and by being pregnant with a Cardassian?" Isabel asked coldly, matter-of-factly.

"No." The Bajoran gave her a venomous look, "I am not like you Car—" He ameneded his words, "Like them Cardassians. I killed her because she would not have stood a chance." His voice reduced to whisper as he stared absently, "Mirha would not have stood a chance with that child. The mere birth would've killed her, the baby would've starved…and her death would've been terribly unpleasant." Tears brimmed in his eyes, " She knows why I did it. She understands. I saw it in her eyes, she understood that I killed her because I loved her." An ironical smile passed his features, "I'll be joining her soon enough, anyway."

"He had gotten that perfectly right." She finished her re-telling, and Dukat smiled at her from the other side of the table.

"Rusol…I remember him, yes. One could say he has a rather promising career in front of him."

"Promising enough to dispose of a woman and a child." Isabel mused,playing with her glass, "No, a Bajoran comfort woman and a bastard child. Not uncommon, I would say."

"He did the only thing he could have." Dukat leaned back, "His other option would have been hiding her and providing for her and the child…since they hardly loved each other, he mostl likely had not even considered doing that."

_Provide for them…as you had for Naprem. _Scoffing on the inside, Isabel did not let it reach her face. Her eyes lost a part of the shine within them, but proofs that he had loved Naprem still bothered her. She had, perhaps, gone away somewhere, but at least she'd had the privelege of experiencing his true love once in her life.

_Now is not the time to think about that._

"Comfort women," She realized Dukat had went on, "Need to live for the moment, as the expression goes. They cannot afford minding trivial things such as emotions, if they expereience any. Their time is too short. As soon as something, career, politics, family, gets in the way, they are disposed of…with or without love." His gaze steeled at the last words, and he studied his _kanar._

He had just told the story of her life. Staring at the stars through the window, Isabel was more than ever certain he knew she loved him. Oh, she could've taken this as a sign she was more than a comfort woman to him, since he referred to comfort women as 'they', not 'you'. But she knew better than that. It was another one of his sweet lies. The true meaning his words had conveyed through a rough metaphore was that, for some reason, Dukat had gotten rid of Naprem. And that she would undoubtedly follow one day.

Her heart had been to befuddled by that to experience pain yet. The next day, that had changed rapidly. And the change slowly settled into the remainder of her time by his side.

_Which was to end now._

The numbness slowly departed, and shock and dread found their way back in. The room began to spin at a dizzying speed, and for a moment she was certain she would faint. But she was too strong for that, and she cursed her body for the strength. She wished to faint, not to be able to feel anything except for comforting oblivion. Instead, she had to settle for the tearing of those minimal fragments of her heart that had managed to survive the last six years. She cursed them for surviving as well, wishing they were gone and not capable of producing any emotions anymore.

Actually, it would've been, by all the clues, for the best if she'd died somewhere between meeting Dukat and between the present moment. It would've helped avoid a lot of unnecessary bad things. And it would have been a lot easier.

Even before that dinner, what had she thought? That she would remain with him forever? That was impossible…and it had been before, too. Before, she had never even thought of leaving him. Maybe it had been an inner defence system that had wanted to make it as easy as possible for her.

"I see." She could've barely heard her own voice over the aching, which was actually audible to her. It was slow, low-pitched and at the verge of breaking, her voice. But she could not break. She was not aware herself of what exactly was holding her together, yet it did so, even if with very weak binds.

Discerning whether that was good or bad was beyond her current capacity.

He turned around, facing her. The fact that she was dishelving was in plain sight. It pretty much amazed him, how she managed to stand there, doing nothing, only showing what was inside on her face. That must have taken every little bit of effort she had.

Or had it been easy for her? Did she maybe believe he was not worthy of tears and cries? Did she think she was not going to miss him enough to call for him at the top of her lungs?

That idea was despicable to Dukat, and he was possessed by a sudden desire to push her over the edge, hurt her just to hear her scream out his name. He wanted her to cry for him, cry because they were most likely never to see each other again, because their time together had come to a conclusion, that they had a week to spend together, and then farewell. As he stepped closer to her, taking in her emerald eyes and curled raven hair, he realized he wished to hear her tell him how much she loved him once more.

So much time had passe since then. Six years. Six whole years since he had lied there, in the infirmary, after an assasination attempt, and she had come running in, tears running freely down her face. She'd lost control then, and hadn't been able to hold back. The Intendant must have learned her lesson, because she'd never allowed that to happen again. Of course, because their relationship would've been torn then.

Now, it was already at its closure.

And he wanted to hear all those things again. He wanted her to whisper them into his ear, to repeat them for countless times until they were both unconscious. Dukat wanted Isabel to let out what she'd held inside for years, to bring it all into the open.

A final injection to his ego?

No, he thought, as he came only a few inches apart from her, cupping her face with his hands. No.

Six years ago, he had been presented with a choice. He could've either chosen to love Isabel back, or to keep loving Naprem. The latter had come out as the valid decision, due to Naprem being safer. It was safer to love one who did not require of him to belong to her and to her only, who knew her place as a Bajoran, who had, in the end, proved her willingness to sacrifice herself by leaving for Lissepia, most likely losing her life. The transport carrying Naprem and Ziyal had disappeared, and had not been sighted ever since five years ago. There was nothing he could've done, and _he had tried_, bribing various mercenaries and sending his own officers to look for the ship. It was simply gone. Safety?

There had been nothing safe about the Prefect of Bajor loving a Bajoran woman.

He had thought Isabel would have been a lot more trouble. But he could have easily controlled her, just as he had as his toy, as his love. He had begun to see that during that conversation with Naprem on Bajor. Too late, it had been, for no matter what he felt for any woman, he would have to get rid of her in the end. That still was a fact, proving itself completely.

So, he had been disregarding all emotion since then.

Now, Dukat wanted to put it all on display, too.

He wanted to, if for one, brief week, experience what it would've been like had he picked Isabel, had he said something else that day. Time was not anything that could've been turned back, and actions could not have been undone.

Amended? That was doable.

Partially amended, in the very least.

"Isabel." He leaned in, kissing her rosebud lips softly, "My Isabel."

Two pairs of eyes, green and blue, looked at each other, one desperate and one unreadable, only showing if a tad of sadness. That sadness was enough for tears to begin making their way to Isabel's cheeks. Not that she would've been able to surpress them much longer anyway. It flattered her, that he was sad because they would soon part forever, but she would've also given anything to erase that feeling. She wanted him to be happy, but she also wanted him to love her, or at least feel something, care, affection for her.

Those two hardly seemed to go along together.

"Dukat." Isabel whispered, unable to even blink and take her gaze away from his one, "Oh, Dukat…"

He wheezed with ironical amusement.

"Is that all we have to say to each other? After six years, are our names all?"

"No--." Isabel did not know what she was saying anymore. His arms trailing down her face, to her neck, her shoulders, and then surrounding her hips, pulling her into a strong embrace were enough to lose her mind. Sobs began to shake her body, sobs that had been kept uncried for all this time. The persistent thought she would soon be for all times separated from Dukat made her press harder against him, taking in every little aspect of the life she was about to lose.

"There is so much more I'd like to say…"

"Then do." He breathed in her scent, same as on the day he had met her, "By all means, do."

"Oh, yes." She cared no longer for the fact she'd vowed never to mention this , she cared no longer, since she was about to be deprieved of him anyway. She might as well do what she'd so desperately yearned to ever since she'd told him she loved him, and ever since she'd been affronted with his cold refusal. Perhaps he was going to be merciful enough now, and give her that final pleasure of claiming he loved her as well. Lie to her, at least, but not hurt her any further.

Or maybe he'd simply cut her down, and make it even worse, if that was possible. One way or another, she could not let this untold.

"I'd really like to. I'm yearning to look at you and say: 'I _love you_. I've loved you all along, at first I was afraid to admit it to myself…then to you. I didn't want to lose you…" Her voice reduced to a whisper, "I thought I would die wihtout you. I knew I would. I still think I won't be able to go on. But now I know I won't die…my damned body simply will not want to stop functioning. Eventually, I'll have to kill myself or go on living in eternal misery.' But where would saying that lead?" She pulled away, facing him, chewing on her lower lip and causing it to bleed, "To you saying you love _Naprem_. And that you have loved _her_ all along. I've already heard that once, and I don't need to again…And I've realized that if I repeat that, you won't stick to me…you'd find yourself another lady who'd be eager to please you and wouldn't have any emotions to get in the way. Maybe my pride should've cut in, and promtped me to be the one to leave you or say this sooner…but God knows I've lost all of my pride to you a _long_ time ago. And losing you…was out of question. I had to make do with what little I could've gotten…and I had to get used to watching Naprem within your eyes. I did exactly that."

The confession had been longer and more shaking then the one six years ago. Dukat stared at her teary eyes, her shivering hands and all the weakness she had so succesfully hidden from him until now. Isabel Kellis had suffered, he noted, much more than Naprem ever could've imagined. Even more than he had thought she had, even though he had been fully aware of her loving him. If one of the two had endured more, it had definitely been the Intendant. And she'd been ready to forego all of that, to keep a straight face and posture, just to be his toy, for the mere grace of his presence.

_Is it possible that I had made the wrong choice?_

Words were unnecessary. He knew he had. Had he chosen Isabel Kellis, he would've gotten his heart's desire, and she would've evaded a cascading spiral downwards. She would've kept her pride, and he would've properly kept the perfect woman up to this moment. All he had done this way had been to ruin her life. Because he had felt loyalty, no longer love, for that Bajoran woman that had given birth to his child. Because he never believed any other sort of relationship except for the one they'd had would have ever been possible with a woman like Isabel. In spite of all, it dawned upon him now, he had _underestimated_ her, certain he could never again feel that sort of attachment towards a supposed comfort woman.

One of his hands flew back up to her cheek, caressing it gently.

"We could've been the perfect match. Had I only chosen you…but I had chosen her. Now, you are right…there is no point in wasting any more words. We must say goodbye one way or another. But I am certain I have never met a woman as magnificent as you. Maybe I never will. Our story has come to its end now, Isabel. We have but a week. During which, "He came closer and closer, and she was enthralled by the honest glow in his eyes, "I intend to redeem myself to you as much as I can." Before their lips impacted again, he murmured silent words that got her lost in a tornado of her heart; "My beloved Intendant."

"Are you telling me the truth?" Isabel did not know what she was saying while moving away, and she scolded herself immediately. It sounded truthful enough. It was either a perfect lie, or he was being sincere, and it did not matter, for she had to believe the latter. She couldn't prevent herself from believing, because she _wanted_ to.

Yet the hoarse mutter left her mouth, sent by the remains of the Isabel that had been, that also wanted to be faced with things as they viscerally were.

Dukat's gaze did not waver. Instead, it remained focused on hers, and she knew that, if he deceived her now, she would be able to tell.

"Over the years, I have been terrible to you. I have treated you as a mere possession, paid little attention to your true feelings, loved another woman. I've lied to you for countless times. Anyone would say, based on that, I do not care for you. In spite of all they might claim…I have always cared for you, Isabel. And I still do, now. Only…that it has turned into something that is best avoided in such relationships…love."_It had done so a long time ago._

She said not another word as they kissed again, with such fierce passion that was not common to regular kisses. It was that kind of passion and ferocity you tasted something with when you wished to savor every little fragment of it, because of the knowledge it would be the last. And, God, it would be among the last. Isabel did not know whether to cry out of happiness because she had finally heard him say it and MEAN IT, because her most cherished and strong dreams had come true, or cry out of anguish because it had happened so late.

_Too late. _Had someone asked her, she would not have been able to tell whether she would prefer an entire existence next to Dukat as an object, or a brief time with him as the woman he loved. But her opinion would carry little weight.

What should've been six years would now be six days. And nothing in the universe could make up for all the lost moments, the heartache, the little shards of her life that had been lost forever. A part of her forever dead. But that very, entire universe formed into one shapeless mass as their tongues and lips caressed each other, as he held her close to him. She'd given up the entire world for him a long time ago. If only time could stop, if only she could've frozen that very moment and remained in it forever.

Dukat wished for the same thing, and also experienced the bitter sweet agony that tagged along when love and loss interwined. They loved each other, and that meant the universe to him, but they were also going to be cruelly parted before less than enough time elapsed. He also knew not whether he shold be happy or despaired, and chose neither, immersing himself deeper into their kiss, forgetting the rest of existence.

It did not matter anyway.

_Love's the funeral of hearts,_

_And an ode for cruelty,_

_When angels cry blood, on flowers of evil in bloom_

_The funeral of hearts,_

_And a plea for mercy_

_When love is a gun, separating me from you_

_The heretic seal beyond divine,_  
_Pray to God who's deaf and blind,  
The last nights, the soul's on fire,  
Three little words and a question why._

_Love's the funeral of hearts,_

_And an ode for cruelty,_

_When angels cry blood, on flowers of evil in bloom_


	17. So Much For Happy Endings

Epilogue

**Epilogue**

As he showed Commander Sisko the Promenade, which had lost all of its former shine now, Constable Odo nearly laughed at his own idiocy.

Of course he knew why. Knew and understood.

When you loved someone, you did begin to take on at least some of their characteristics, did you not? If not in order to please them, as Isabel had been doing for Dukat, then subconsciously, in order to please yourself by feeling closer to them on some level. He had done the latter himself, with Isabel's prideful talent of self-deception. As soon as he had been able to tell himself he had only developed a _slight_ affection for her over the years. And just as her own, his newly acquired talent had left him when it truly came to the one he loved.

Had loved or loved?

At this point, it was still 'loved'. As he had watched her leave on the U.S.S. Voyager, he had known that soon it would be 'had loved'. But not just yet. Not until Captain Sisko finished the repairs on the station, which was as crashed as three lives, of which two had left and one had remained bind to the same place, not until every little bit of Terok Nor, now Deep Space Nine, ceased being a constant reminder of the _two of them. _Even now, as he walked, his own voice explaining everything to Sisko was but a faint quiver in his ears. From each and every place came an image of them. The upper level, where Tanal Lomarra had been executed-the exact place on which Dukat had stood upon grinning at Isabel(and Odo painfully recalled she'd returned that smile) was covered by a heavy bulkhead, yet in his mind the Prefect still stood there, just as she where Sisko stood now. The Infirmary, the walls of which were blasted and opened it to the eyes of the public, was where he still saw Isabel and Dukat, even though the bed where she'd lied when he'd(Dukat) kissed her that day was overturned.

_Everything tangible changes, but the intangible always remains._

Odo wished he could _shape-shift_ his feelings for the Intendant, but he could not. They were intangible, yet weighed with full tangibility. That was why they left such a mess behind. Memories he had of Isabel and himself were many, mostly unimportant, but he kept each and every one of them, every little detail of them.

From the welcome to the station, to the brief goodbye, which had been just that, one word. The Prefect had, no doubt, received a far better one.

Lulling himself into believing she and Dukat had a pleasure-only relationship had been completely demolished when he had been faced with her emerald orbs upon his departure. Never before had he seen so much pain, so much suffering…and so much love. Their story had had no such thing as a happy ending, and neither had his(while everyone around them seemed to be welcoming just that), but he was certain it would've been far worse had he openly admitted his emotions to her.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, Odo turned towards the lift, out of which stepped a red-haired Bajoran woman. Major Kira Nerys would be the second-in-command of the station now. The Constable had notices many simillarities and even a larger amount of differences between her and Isabel Kellis. The prime one was that the Major would certainly never sleep with Commander Sisko. That filled him with eerie ease-mostly because such a thing would've only served to remind him of Isabel and Dukat for as long as he remained here. And he had no desire to leave.

Life had to move on. But his life was here. Odo liked his job, and he believed he did it well. His sense for justice never would change. Besides, this was the only true life he had ever known, safe for the lab. Departing on the account of a broken heart(which he did not have) would have been a sign of weakness he wished not for anyone to see. This trait he had not claimed from Isabel-it was rather native to his personality. Pride.

_I will remain proud. I will remain just, and I will go on with my life._

_She had lost her pride and any sense of justice she might have possessed to him._

_Will she be able to go on?_

A painful enigma, indeed.

So much for happy endings.

_**Well, people, that was it! I would like to thank the few of you that had stuck with this story, and that had actually bothered to review. You made me go on with this story! Well, you nad my inspiration. I really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully, you enjoyed reading it half as much. :)**_


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